


Visit Scenic Dathomir!

by celinamarniss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure! Romance! Rancors!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, EU nonsense, F/M, Fake Marriage, Force Bond (Star Wars), Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Road Trip, Sharing a Bed, Teneniel gets a cameo too because she's great, cherry picking what i want from the books and ignoring everything i hate, tropetastic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celinamarniss/pseuds/celinamarniss
Summary: Luke and Mara travel to the planet of Dathomir to recruit for the Jedi Order and explore the wreck of a Jedi training ship. Just an easy trip to Dathomir, what could possibly go wrong?





	1. Why Not Visit Scenic Dathomir?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frangipani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frangipani/gifts).



> Look, "The Courtship of Princess Leia" is a hot mess, we all know this to be true. But it turns out that mess is a lot of fun to play with. There's a planet populated by warrior witches that ride rancors! What's not to love about that?
> 
> A note on timelines and continuity: The story takes place about four years after "The Courtship of Princess Leia," and two years after The Thrawn Trilogy (more or less. Star Wars timelines are confusing). Also, continuing my campaign of aggressively ignoring the fact that Dark Empire exists, Byss didn't happen in this AU. The events of the story happen right before the Jedi Academy opens on Yavin.

“A wreck, out in the desert,” Luke answered. “Once it was a spaceship, called the _Chu’unthor,_ and the Jedi trained there. I’d like to come back someday and salvage it, see if any of its records are intact.” — _The Courtship of Princess Leia, by Dave Wolverton._

 

 

The ship lurched as it came out of hyperspace above the planet of Dathomir, a wobble that marred the otherwise flawless flight, despite the skill of the pilot who flew her. Luke winced but held his tongue. The pilot wouldn't welcome the criticism, since he didn't think she was currently speaking to him. She steadied the craft as they made their descent toward the blue-green planet orbiting below.

It had been four years since Luke had last set foot on Dathomir. His previous sojourn on the planet having been a near-fatal mission searching for Han and Leia that ended in a battle with Imperials for the fate of the planet. While wandering in a wasteland, he’d discovered the wreck of massive Jedi training ship, the _Chu’unthor._ At the time, he’d been unable to explore the ruins, but he’d always meant to return to recover anything that might help him to reestablish the lost Jedi Order. Before she’d died, Mother Rell, an elder from the Singing Mountain Clan, had given him a set of datatapes from the _Chu’unthor_ that had been an invaluable resource for his mission.

After several years of organizing, fundraising, and recruiting, his plans for the Jedi Academy were finally coming together. He had a short list of promising candidates interested in taking up training, and just enough funding to keep an organization running for a few years. At that moment, a small fleet of droids, on loan from the New Republic, was in process of cleaning, renovating, and making the temple base on Yavin livable. But even though he’d poured over all the records and files he’d been able to salvage from the old Jedi Order, there was so much he didn’t know about how the Jedi worked. Any resources he could scavenge from the Chu’unthor would be valuable to an Order he was building from practically nothing.

When he had begun planning his trip to Dathomir, the first person he contacted had been Teneniel Djo, the new Queen Mother of Hapes, and a former Dathomir witch. Teneniel had informed him regretfully that she couldn't make the trip due to her obligations at the Hapan court (she had also said some unrepeatable things about certain members of the Hapan nobility). She had put him in contact with her clan on her home planet, and established introductions in order to arrange his visit with the head of the clan, Mother Augwynne.

She also had insisted, with surprising vehemence, that he take another woman along to escort him through the matriarchal culture of Dathomir. “The women will all turn into drebbin and eat you up,” she told him. Luke wasn’t sure what a _drebbin_ was, but apparently it was undesirable. The holo flickered as she batted impatiently at a veil that was slipping out of place. “Do you want to end up the slave of some _Red Hills_ witch?” she had said with the disdain of a woman who still remembered old clan rivalries.

“But I’ve been a guest of the clan before and there weren’t any problems,” he had argued.

“You were under my protection,” she said. “And your sister fought very fiercely in your defense too. The clan sisters respected her.” One of the veils was slipping again. “Isolder!” she hissed. The prince consort materialized, expertly pinning back the offending garment. Luke waved at his friend who nodded back and then respectfully stepped out of his wife’s conversation again. “You need a wife’s protection.”

“But I don’t have a wife.” There was no way the Leia would be able to take time away from the Senate and her children, either.

“Aren’t there _any_ suitable women on your planet?” Teneiel has said in exasperation. “What about your students? Jedi women are strong enough to handle the clan sisters, aren’t they?”

“Well—”

“One of your Jedi can pose as your wife during the visit. It’s simple,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I must go. Lady Occen _died_ and the fête starts soon. It lasts five _days._ On Dathomir, a funeral longer than six hours is considered _obscene.”_ Isolder said something to her and she darted out of the holo’s range in a swirl of tulle, leaving Luke to sign off to an empty screen.

He had to find a woman who would accompany him to Dathomir and pose as his wife, and, for all purposes, his owner. Luke didn’t know any of the new Jedi applicants well enough to ask for that sort of favor. Except—Mara. There was Mara.

He looked over to where she sat in the pilot's seat. A few strands of red-gold hair had slipped loose from the tight braid she usually wore and floated around her face. Her lips compressed into a narrow line as she considered the rapidly approaching planet. She’d been broadcasting her displeasure across the training bond they’d established only a few weeks before, but otherwise kept her thoughts hidden behind tight mental shields. It had been a rather frosty trip from Coruscant.

Mara had always seemed less than interested in his missions to recover Jedi information and artifacts. Whenever she was on Coruscant she made time to train with him, but when he brought up the work he'd been doing to build a Jedi academy, she'd always claimed to be too busy. So Luke had approached Talon Karrde, Mara's boss and mentor, to inquire about her schedule, and the smuggler had been happy to give her time to make the trip. Mara hadn't been pleased. They'd had one vicious argument before they'd left.

She’d burst into his apartment on Coruscant, spitting angry. “You went behind my back! Karrde’s completely rearranged my schedule so that I can be assigned to your trip to that backwater planet.”

“Why isn’t that a good thing?” Luke had been bewildered by her volatile reaction.

“I didn’t _ask_ to be volunteered for your mission!” she fumed.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Mara.” He was trying to be patient but it was difficult with the tumult of emotions roiling across the bond. "I'm sorry," he said, but he still didn't understand why she was so angry. “But I don’t see why it’s such a problem for you to take a break from Karrde’s organization.”

Several expressions moved across her face as she seemed to be struggling to put her response into words. She said, quietly, almost to herself: "It's all I've got."

 _Ah._ "But it isn't, Mara," he said. "There's always a place for you at the Jedi Academy—" He came to a halt at her sudden spike of anger. "What was that? Why are you so opposed to the idea of a Jedi Academy?"

"Holding hands and meditating in the jungle just doesn't appeal to me," she said nastily. "Did you just expect me to pack up my life and join your crusade to reinstate an outdated religion?"

Luke stared at her, shocked and hurt. She’d never been opposed to strengthening her own skills. What was it about the idea of a Jedi Academy that bothered her so much? It was out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think it through: "Is this an Imperial thing?"

All expression dropped from her face, her own shock echoing back at him. "What did you just say?"

Okay, dangerous ground. Luke wasn't going to drop it if it happened to be true. "Do you think any anti-Jedi sentiments from the Imperial regime might still be influencing you?"

Her face twisted up in anger. “How dare you!” she spat. “I haven’t served the Empire for seven years!” He caught a rush of images from her, unpleasant memories of her early years bursting forth in a confused deluge. When she realized she’d been projecting, she sucked in a shocked breath and took a step back.

She actually recovered quicker than he did, lashing out again. “What if those some of those stories were true? What if the Jedi were corrupt and out of control? What if recreating the hallowed Jedi order is a mistake?” It smarted to hear some of his own fears echoed back at him. He knew so little about the Order and restoring it felt like a heavy burden some days. Mara knew how to draw blood.

“You’re honestly going to defend the massacre of the entire Jedi order?” he said. She flinched at the accusation. He tried to squash the sickening thrill that came with pushing her buttons right back. “The Jedi are gone, Mara,” he continued. “We’re all that’s left. We have a responsibility rectify that loss.”

 _“We?_ Why do you assume that I want the same things you do?”

“What _do_ you want, Mara?”

“I _want_ to you stop interfering with my job,” she snapped.

That wasn’t exactly what was going on here, he was sure of it, but she had a point. “Okay, I’m sorry. Do you want me to talk to Karrde?”

She clenched her jaw and ground out: “No, it’s all been arranged already.”

“Then I don’t know what to say to you, Mara.”

“Just—stay out of my business, Skywalker.”

After she left, he was wrung out from the strain of fighting with a friend, whose own emotional turmoil he could still feel echoing around in his head. He usually could pick up strong emotions from most sentients, but now that he had a Force-enhanced link to Mara, he was attuned to her emotions like a transmission constantly humming at the back of his head. Still, he wasn’t entirely sorry he’d asked Karrde to assign her to his mission to Dathomir. In the three years since they’d met, Mara had flashed in and out of his life like a comet. He saw her several times a year, usually on Coruscant, and he’d always made an effort to talk her into a lesson or two whenever she was on planet. He found himself missing her company when she was away.

In the last three months she’d been on Coruscant for an extended stay, resolving some sort of squabble between the government and the Smuggler’s Alliance. He’d tried to monopolize as much of her time as possible, stealing her away for training sessions whenever possible. He knew that she’d be an extraordinary Jedi Knight if she’d ever commit to that path, but she remained maddeningly loyal to her responsibilities as Karrde’s second in command. It was a loyalty he had to admit he admired even as it hindered their progress.

As they’d settled the details of the trip, Mara was as focused and precise as she'd ever been on a mission. Her temper had cooled since their fight, which she never mentioned, though he could sense a lingering resentment shimmering beneath the surface. She _not_ been happy about posing as his wife, either. It hadn't been an auspicious start to their trip. She refused to talk to him more than was strictly necessary and avoided him as much as she possibly could, not an easy feat in the small ship Karrde had loaned them.

She caught his look and shifted out of her chair so he could take her place. He took the pilot's station as Mara moved silently into the co-pilot seat he’d abandoned. They'd agreed beforehand that he'd handle the flight to the surface. She'd never been to Dathomir, a planet interdicted by the Emperor until recently, and too obscure for most travelers to visit.

The first time he’d been to Dathomir he’d been shot out of the sky by Imperials, but he remembered the sinister sense of foreboding he had felt as he approached the planet. The malevolent influence of the Nightsisters cast a pall over the Force. It had felt like a shadow on the planet, so distinct that Leia had sensed it as well. Most of the Nightsisters had died in the battle of Dathomir and as their numbers decreased, so had the shadow of the dark side, though there remained something wild and strange about the planet.

The ship sunk under the cloud cover and there was a rush of white across the viewport until they broke through below. They cruised over the mountains and heavily wooded valleys of the planet. It was strikingly beautiful from above. He guided the ship toward the valley where the Singing Mountain Clan lived. The place was unmistakable, a lush bowl dotted with large bright blue ponds, dominated by the clan’s massive fortress. He brought the ship down onto a patch of land designated as a landing field, amidst fields of crops and grain that filled the valley and ran in tiers up the slopes of the surrounding mountains.

“This is it—the Valley of the Singing Mountain Clan,” Luke announced with a smile that was a little forced. Mara nodded curtly, moving gracefully out of the copilot’s seat and stalking toward the ship’s exit without even a glance in his direction. Luke sighed.

Not many ships came to the Valley of the Singing Mountain Clan, and Luke was certain that the entire clan had noted their arrival. Sure enough, a greeting party was already approaching by the time they stepped off the ship. They were met by members of the Singing Mountain Clan's guard, heavily armed and wearing the elaborate helms of the Witches of Dathomir. They carried spears and daggers as well as a mixture of Hapan and stolen Imperial blasters. He recognized the leader, who carried a wicked looking pike, as she stepped forward to address them.

"Mara Jade," Damaya said, inclining her head, the gems in her helm swaying and glittering. "We're here to escort you to the fortress of the Singing Mountain Clan." He watched Mara size up Damaya, subtly shifting her stance so that it mirrored the other woman's. "With your permission, we will also post guards to protect your ship from Nightsisters."

"Thank you," Mara said. "Our bags— "

"Will be taken care of." Damaya gestured, and a pair of men standing respectfully at the back of the group took Mara and Luke's luggage to carry up to the fortress.

"I was told the Nightsisters were defeated at the battle of Dathomir," Mara said as she followed Damaya, Luke falling into step behind her.

"Most of them died, yes. The survivors are attempting to rebuild their clans. They know better than to attack our valley directly, but they might be desperate enough to try to steal a ship."

It was late afternoon, and the light was turning golden as it slanted over the valley. Their route took then through several fields and then past a series of gardens and reptile pens. Between the gardens and the fortress was a village of thatch huts. As they made their way through the village, its inhabitants watched them pass with open curiosity.

“Give me your hand,” Mara muttered, and he glanced at her. Her eyes flicked over to where a pair of women were possessively holding their male companion's hands, publicly asserting their claim on their husbands. He reached out and Mara's fingers curled around his. A jolt ran through him at her touch, and he tried to smother his reaction before it leaked across the bond. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed how much stronger their connection was whenever they touched. This time Mara didn't seem to notice over the waves of intense irritation she was radiating over the entire situation.

They paused as they passed what appeared to be a training ground for the women warriors of the clan. There was what seemed to be some sort of obstacle course, and a set of posts set up for target practice. In a ring of hard pounded earth two women were sparring with a pair of quarterstaffs. Luke and Mara both watched the match with interest. He recognized one of the women, a spellcaster named Kirana Ti, who he vaguely remembered from his previous visit. The erratic _thok-thok_ of the staffs striking each other filled the air.

As they watched, Kirana Ti thrust her staff forward, and the other woman moved to the side just in time and used her staff to knock Kirana Ti’s away. Kirana Ti spun, bringing the far end of her staff around to meet the other woman’s weapon. The woman knocked Kirana Ti back easily. Kiana Ti retreated and the other warrior pressed forward in a brief flurry of blows, which Kirana Ti blocked with the center of her staff. Having been driven to the edge of the ring, Kirana Ti twisted sideways to break away from the encounter, slapping the other woman’s calf with her staff as she darted out of her reach. The woman gave an enraged snarl, swinging hard in a heavy blow that missed Kirana Ti by a wide margin.

“Control your anger!” Damaya called out to the other fighter. The woman gave a nod, taking a breath and recentering herself before the bout continued. Damaya explained to Mara: “The Book of Law tells us to never strike another sister in anger.”

Luke recalled Teneniel’s explosive temper. “That’s why Teneniel was in exile, wasn’t it?”

Damaya gave a curt nod. "Teneniel danced too close to becoming a Nightsister. She let her anger overcome her too many times."

"Rage brings us closer to the dark side." Luke was suddenly back in the Emperor’s throne room, struggling to control the anger surging through him. "I've been close to that edge myself."

Mara was caught in a memory too, and he gave her an encouraging nudge through the Force. She blinked, and said quietly, "I tried to tear out Thrawn's throat with my bare hands."

 _"What?"_ Luke said, staring at her.

"You knew that I faced him on the Chimera." Her lip twisted and she glanced away. “When he told me he was going to go after Karrde I lost control.” She looked embarrassed. “I don’t usually lose control like that. I tried to Force choke him. I didn’t succeed.” Mara gave him a humorless smile, shrugged. "I overplayed my hand, but I think I rattled him a bit."

"I would have loved to have seen that."

"I bet you would, Farmboy."

"If you'd succeeded, the galaxy might have been a very different place." Luke thought of the lives spared if she’d managed to cut short Thrawn’s brutal campaign—

"If I'd succeeded, I'd be dead," she cut him off bluntly, turning her head away. She wasn’t wrong, and Luke didn’t want to contemplate a galaxy where Mara Jade no longer existed.

Meanwhile, Kirana Ti had swept her opponent’s legs out from under her and swiftly disarmed the other women. The match concluded, she helped her sparring partner up and laughed at something the other woman said, as she untied her long dark hair, letting it fall down her back. She looked in their direction and a flash of recognition crossed her face when she saw Luke; she came over to where they stood, addressing Mara first.

“Kirana Ti.” she introduced herself. “Welcome to the Singing Mountain Clan.”

“Mara Jade.”

“You’re one of the Jai, aren’t you?”

Mara glanced at him. “More or less.” He could feel her discomfort with the question, though none of it showed on her face.

“Mother Augwynne told us that you’re starting a school for the Jai, is that right?” Apparently news of their mission had already gotten around.

“Yes. We’re—” Mara shot him a glare that clearly communicated how much she resented being his mouthpiece. “Opening an academy for Jedi on the planet Yavin.”

“Before she died, Grandmother Rell used to tell us all stories about the fantastic deeds the Jai— _Jedi_ —performed as they flew across the stars.”

“They did—before the Emperor wiped them out,” Mara said.

Kirana Ti spat a curse in Dathomiri—the witches had no love for the Empire.

“Exactly,” Mara said grimly.

“That’s why we’re here,” Luke said. “We’re working to rebuild what was lost.”

“We should keep moving,” Damaya broke in. “Mother Augwynne is expecting us.”

They approached the patchwork fortress of the Singing Mountain Clan, its enormous edifice crafted from a fusion of stone and sheets of durasteel scavenged from the Imperials. Since his last visit, the scars left from the battle with the Nightsisters had been patched over, and the settlement around the fortress expanded.

In front of the fortress a reception party of high-ranking witches waited to greet them. The women wore heavy embroidered robes over tunics made from glittering lizard hide. On their heads they wore helms that looked like antlers or elaborate insect wings, each decorated with ornaments made of gemstone, metal or bone. The leader of the Singing Mountain Clan stepped forward, the polished yellow tiger eye ornaments hanging from wooden antlers of her headdress catching the light. "On behalf of the sisters of Singing Mountain Clan, I, Mother Augwynne, welcome you to Dathomir."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mother Augwynne," Mara responded to the formal greeting. "You know my husband, Luke Skywalker."

Mother Augwynne gave Mara a questioning glance before approaching Luke. Mara looked confused for a brief moment before she gave a nod of assent. Permission given, Augwynne clasped Luke's hands warmly. "Welcome back to the Singing Mountains, Luke. It's good to see you again. How are Leia and Han?"

"They're doing well. They've had twins since you saw them.”

"Teneniel told us. They have a daughter! What a blessing."

“They have a new baby boy now too."

Mother Augwynne shook her head regretfully. “Well, perhaps the next one will be a girl.” He caught a flicker of amusement from Mara. “You’re done well for yourself too, marrying a Jedi! We knew that you would do well and match yourself with a powerful woman.” Luke felt slightly patronized by that. “But I had thought that Jedi were rare?”

“We are,” Luke said. Technically, he was the only one, but that would soon change. “That’s why we’re here. I’d like to speak with the sisters about our plans for the Jedi Academy, if that’s allowed.”

Mother Augwynne looked to Mara. “Does he have your permission to speak publically?”

“I’ve given him permission to speak freely,” Mara said with a straight face, though Luke could sense that she thought this was _hilarious._ "Isn't that right, sweetheart?" she said, far too sweetly.

"Of course, darling," he tried to keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice, but he probably failed.

“After dinner, you can speak,” Mother Augwunne told them. “You’ve arrived just in time. Follow me.”

He took Mara’s hand again and shifted closer to her. He caught the whisper of one of her thoughts— _too close_ —as physical contact magnified the Force bond. She _really_ didn’t like it when he held her hand.

As they entered the fortress, he noticed that the old sconces had been replaced by Hapan-made light fixtures, brightening the passageways and the grand hall; more evidence of Teneniel Djo's influence. The Singing Mountain Clan had clearly thrived since the Battle of Dathomir.

Their luggage was whisked away and they were lead to the grand hall. Men were laying out leather cushions grouped in small circles, and Augwynne led Luke and Mara to sit at a particular spot near the front of the hall. The hall was filling with witches and their children, who started openly at the guests. He’d be blind not to notice the openly covetous glances of the women in his direction. Witches Luke had met during the battle of Dathomir came over to give him their regards—after first getting a signal from Mara that they could approach. He noticed that Mara was picking up the gestures and body language of the witches, and even slipping into their accent when she spoke one on one with Augwynne. He wondered if this mimicry was even a conscious effort on her part, or if she just fell into it after so many years of training in social camouflage.

The evening meal was served, dishes of smoked meat and curried vegetables laid out on an embroidered mat in the center of the circles. It was accompanied by a light summer wine that reminded Luke of an Ithorian beverage he’d had once. The meal was a far cry from what he typically ate on Coruscant, and Luke savored the difference. So often he resorted to packaged meals after a long day of meetings and training. It was a treat to eat food this fresh and prepared by hand. There was a dish of spiced beetles that he particularly enjoyed, though Mara wouldn’t touch them.

One of the older witches in their circle prattled on about any topic that came to mind, the tiny bird skulls in her helm bobbing as she talked animatedly. Although they had extensive knowledge of every single event of note that had happened in the various neighboring clans on Dathomir, the witches seemed completely unconcerned about larger events in the galaxy beyond their planet. When Augwynne could get a word in edgewise she would ask Mara or Luke a question about Leia and Han, but the rest of the group appeared uninterested.

Luke noticed that Mara, as she listened to the witches talk and responded to their questions, had relaxed a fraction from her usual guarded manner. “This isn’t so bad, is it?” he asked her. She shrugged a shoulder as she speared a pale root vegetable with her fork. “Admit it, you’re having fun.”

 _“Fun_ might be too strong a word,” she replied tartly, but he thought he caught a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. If she was relaxed enough to actually _smile_ at him, it was time to up the ante. Luke scooted closer to Mara on his cushion, noting with amusement that she jumped slightly when he put his arm around her. “We’re supposed be married.” He whispered, his lips brushing her temple. He could feel her irritation, heightened through physical contact, though she knew better than to let it show.

She turned into his embrace, an adoring smile on her face that did funny things to his insides, even though he was well aware that it was just a facade. She leaned close and murmured a low phrase in Huttese. Although the tone of her voice was affectionate, the phrase she used (one Luke had only ever heard once before and in _very_ different context) was extremely descriptive in its vulgarity. He felt his face flush and caught a glimpse of her grin as he choked in surprise.

In retaliation he picked up one of the spiced beetles and offered it to her, knowing that she’d avoided them so far. “Try one, darling, they’re delicious.” She gave him a long look. He could feel her exasperation, and behind that, the sense that she was calculating her next move. It still took him by surprise when she plucked the beetle out of his hand with her mouth, her lips brushing slowly against his fingers. He slammed his shields up, realizing too late what a colossal tactical error he’d made.

She crunched the beetle between her teeth, treating him to an evil smirk. “Mmm, you’re _so_ right. _Delicious.”_

He shifted back out of her personal space as she continued to smirk at him, careful not to let his sudden and unexpected arousal leak across the bond. Smugness at having won that particular round rolled off of her. When she turned to respond to something Kirana Ti had said Luke glared at the side of her head.

The dinner wound down and plates and their contents removed. One of the witches rose, her shimmering golden brown lizard skin dress rippling in the light as she moved to the head of the hall. There was a general shifting of seating arrangements—cushions dragged to prime locations—until all parties were facing her.

“Sister Azbeth will be singing the saga of Allya’s voyage through the stars,” Mother Augwynne explained. According to legend, Allya was the mother of Dathomiri magic, who had founded the society that made up Dathomir today. Sister Azbeth stood tall before her audience, her helm decorated with beads and metal ornaments that spun slowly as she moved. She began to sing, her voice thrumming with the Force. She lifted her hands and a dozen glass and metal spheres rose and began to rotate before her. They represented planets and stars, Luke realized, as they danced through the air.

Kirana Ti explained softly that the song was in an old formal Dathomiri dialect used for sagas and oratory. She continued to translate for Mara and Luke as the song continued. Luke tuned her out, content to listen to the music and study the way she wove the Force through her song. It was a striking performance, the haunting song paired with the captivating motion of the spheres. When the saga finally drew to a close, the spheres gently floated back down onto a pillow in front of Azbeth. She sagged a little, clearly winded by her simultaneous performance and use of the Force. As one, the hall chanted a brief verse back to her, a response akin to a round of applause, Luke realized.

Augwynne took Azbeth’s place at the front of the hall. “Many of you remember Jai Mara’s husband, Luke Skywalker, from when he joined us in the great battle against the Nightsisters. He has asked to address the sisters and tell us about their mission for the Jai.” Giving speeches wasn’t his favorite activity—more Leia’s department than his—but it was one he’d plenty of practice with since joining the Alliance. He'd lost count of the times he'd had to speak to a crowd, though usually the crowds he spoke to were more accustomed to hearing a man speak for himself. He could see many skeptical expressions in the crowd assembled before him.

Taking a deep breath, he began. “I'd like to thank the Singing Mountain Clan for their warm welcome to your planet and your home. Mara and I appreciate your generous hospitality. As some of you know, I've been working to restore the Jedi Order and found a new Jedi training academy.” He glanced at Mara, who was keeping her expression carefully blank. “The Empire tried to wipe out the Jedi and almost everything about their way of life was lost in the purges. The last time I was here, Mother Augwynne gave me records that came from the Jedi training ship _Chu'unthor,_ which have been invaluable in reconstructing what was lost. I—Mara and I—decided to come back to Dathomir to study the wreck further and see if there are any resources left there that might be useful for the new Jedi order.

“I'd also like to invite any spellcasters to consider joining the Jedi academy. We'd be honored to have the Witches of Dathomir train with us. Men are welcome to apply as well. The Jedi order is a place where everyone will be treated equally." He felt a wave of disapproval ripple through the crowd at that statement. He caught Mara's eye. She shrugged. Well, he had to try. "Please don't hesitate to approach us if you have any questions. Thank you." He took a seat again as the hall hummed with conversation. Luke tried to read the shifting mood in the crowd, which wasn't quite hostile, but definitely less welcoming than it had been before.

“Thank you, Luke.” Augwynne said, a politic smile on her face. "We have a lot to think about now." And in fact, a few older witches came over to bombard him with questions about the Jedi Order that he tried to field as politely as possible. He got the impression they were testing him, rather than actually interested in the future of the Jedi.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Mara covering a yawn. Augwynne had seen it too. "But you two look tired,” she said. “Sister Shen can take you to your room and you can get some rest."

They were led to a residential section of the fortress and shown into a single private room which had the impersonal feel of a guest bedroom. The room was hung with heavy tapestries, which probably helped to hold warmth in the space on cold nights in the valley. There was a small refresher behind a curtain, a few chests and a small table. Another doorway opened out to a wide balcony. The bed, large enough for two, was a mat of finely woven straw laid directly on the floor and neatly covered with blankets.

"I'll make up a place to sleep in the corner—" Luke started.

"There's plenty of room on the bed. I'm not going to besmirch your honor, Skywalker."

He opened his mouth to argue with her and then thought the better of it. It _had_ been a long day, and they were both adults. He ran through his evening meditation routine, and by the time he was done Mara was already curled up under the covers, leaving a wide space for him to fit on the other side of the pallet.

"'Night, Mara."

"Mm-hmm," she muttered.

Things were going well, he thought before he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Experience Singing Mountain Valley: Where the Force is Always With You

Mara woke swiftly, a force of habit that had saved her life on several occasions. Before even moving a muscle, she automatically assessed the unfamiliar surroundings: she was on Dathomir, in the private room they had been given. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the inhabitants of the fortress going about their morning routines. Luke was still asleep on the pallet beside her, though probably not for long. She knew from their experiences on Wayland that he was an early riser. The sensation of having another person sleeping next to her, radiating heat and breathing quietly through the night, wasn’t something she was accustomed to, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

As she rose from the bed, Luke stirred, a hand coming up to rub sleep from his eyes. She made a quick trip to the refresher and then set about dressing herself. She felt his attention shift towards her and then abruptly jerk away. She rolled her eyes. After all the scrapes they'd been in during the campaign against Thrawn, there couldn't have been anything on display he hadn't seen already.

When she'd finished dressing he started to to move about the small room himself. He was so _close,_ not just in the small space of their room, but in her mind. She could pick up his mood and he could sense every emotion she didn't deliberately shield. Just as disturbing was the thought that either one of them could influence the actions of the other. Kriffing Jedi training bonds. She couldn’t even snap at him to stay out of her head because _she’d invited him in there._

He'd talked her into a training bond _before_ he’d sprung the Dathomir mission on her. Mara had been eager to master lightsaber technique, a skill she'd never completely developed. In spite of her early exposure to a handful of Force techniques, Palpatine had never trained her as a duelist. The lightsaber that she had wielded for him (now long lost) had been used as a tool and for defensive purposes. She had never dueled a Jedi or Sith. Luke had suggested the training bond as a quick way to improve her skills, and Mara had jumped at the opportunity. In spite of her previous experience with a Force bond she hadn't thought through what it would mean to have _Luke Skywalker_ in her head.

After the intensity of a sparring session, the link would ease off, each of them retreating into their own heads and behind carefully constructed shields, but it had never been completely dissolved. Mara always had a baseline sense of where Luke was and, unless he was deliberately shielding, what he was feeling. Of course he was unfailingly, irritatingly polite about it, keeping assiduously to the boundaries she’d placed. But this close to the core of him she was constantly aware of the sheer power he possessed. It made her wary. She already knew what it was to be trapped in the orbit of a powerful Force user.

But in the rush to prepare for the mission to Dathomir, they'd both simply let it slide. Mara had been too angry with him to sit down and work through the process of undoing the connection, and he didn't seemed inclined to suggest it. The one time it had come up, he argued that it would be useful on the mission, especially considering the ruse they'd have to maintain about their relationship. She’d accepted that explanation as though she were some sort of idiot who didn’t know how to keep her cover story. Oh, he'd been very sneaky about the entire trip. Mara stalked onto the balcony, suddenly unable to be in the same room with him.

He'd given her all his usual speeches about the importance of the Jedi to the galaxy, etc etc etc. He'd argued that she was the best candidate for this particular quest (as she was lucky enough to be one of the two women he knew with any sort of Force training at all, and his sister already had her excuses lined up for the next decade). And then he'd gone around her back and talked to Karrde. How _dare_ he.

Mara knew Karrde had a romantic streak, and probably had some idealistic dream of secretly backing the new Jedi Order (his idealistic impulses backed by the fact that having Jedi in your debt would be very handy in the future). These days Mara could read Karrde as well as he could read her. He _knew_ she didn't want to get wrapped up in one of Skywalker's Jedi missions and he sent her anyway. She hadn't forgiven either one of them yet.

Mara leaned over the balcony as she brooded, the valley spread before her. A deep bellow sounded across the settlement and Mara turned to watch the rancors as they waded into the deep ponds beyond the village, submerging themselves until only their nostrils broke the surface of the water. They were bizarre creatures.

She took a deep breath, almost unconsciously falling into a Jedi calming technique Luke had taught her, and began to move through the poses in her morning stretches, working out her body as she worked out the tangle of thoughts in her head. The things he’d said about her Imperial background had hurt. She’d fought so hard to put it behind her, to not let Palpatine’s influence taint her. It have it flung in her face like that— _no._ She stopped that train of thought. She wouldn’t let her anger control her. It wasn’t useful here and now; she could put it aside until she needed it later. She’d used anger to fuel her determination the darkest moments in her life; it had been all she had. But now it was a distraction, and worse than that, something that could taint her relationship to the Force. In the years after Palpatine and before Luke, she'd let her talents lay fallow, and that anger hadn’t affected her use of the Force, but now things were more complicated. On all fronts. She needed to remain in control. She moved out of the final pose as she finished the pattern of the calming technique, her thoughts reordered, her mind centered.

“Mara?” Luke called. “Breakfast?” Her carefully subdued frustration flared up again at the sight of him. _Damn him._

Breakfast was a hearty soup eaten in the main hall. Afterward, Kirana Ti approached them and offered a tour of the settlement outside the fortress. Luke had taken her hand again—her blaster hand, _dammit_ —and now she could practically hear him thinking. The odd occasional memory—of Dathomir as he’d seen it four years ago—wormed its way into her head and gave her a completely unsettling case of deja vu.

The village that surrounded the fortress consisted of small huts and a few larger structures that appeared to house workshops for various crafts that were essential to the community. Though the huts were made of simple thatch and wood or mud bricks and stone, there was a sophistication to the structures that was hadn’t been obvious at first glance. When Luke asked about it, Kirana Ti simply called it “men’s work,” with a dismissive wave of her hand. Although the valley was self-sufficient, Kirana Ti explained that they often traded with other nearby clans that specialized in particular goods—reptile leather or metalwork, for instance. Women would also travel to other clans in search of husbands to buy or steal, and sisters shifted their allegiances sometimes. Children ran freely around the village, the younger ones half-naked in the warm summer sun. The women of the clan were friendly and happy to chat when Kirana Ti introduced them, though they all exhibited a general lack of curiosity toward newcomers. The men they saw were either hard at work or trailing along behind a wife or mistress, and kept their distance, out of respect or a wariness toward strangers Mara couldn’t quite tell. Some of the women made suggestive comments about Luke, which Mara ignored and Kirana Ti politely but firmly rebuffed.

“I think Han go the brunt of that last time,” he muttered to Mara, visibly uncomfortable with the attention.

She snickered. He blushed, and she couldn’t resist the urge to needle him. “You’ve never won a single game of sabbac, have you?”

He blinked, not quite following her train of thought. “I have! And I didn’t use the Force,” he was quick to point out, as though the accusation had been leveled at him before, and it probably had.

“You were beating drunken fighter pilots,” Mara assumed. “You weren’t playing _real_ sabbac.” Sabbac certainly wasn’t something she was taught in the Imperial Palace, but she’d been living on the Fringe for seven years now, and even if she didn’t particularly care for the game, she knew her way around a sabbac table.

“Oh? Are you planning to teach me?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe some day.”

They were near the edge of the settlement now, and ahead was a small herd of rancors, sunning themselves in the clearing in front of the pond. "Would you like me to introduce you to the rancors?" Kirana Ti said.

“Of course,” Luke said. “We’d love to meet them.” Mara raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. “They’re actually very intelligent,” he explained. “They can be trained as warriors or scouts, and they fought alongside us in the battle of Dathomir.” As they approached the animals, one of the older rancors broke aways from the group and trotted over. She was one of the bigger creatures, her thick hide spotted with lichen and moss.

"Tosh!" Luke exclaimed as he reached up to pat the rancor's huge head. "Tosh and I fought the Nightsisters together. She saved my life." He stroked the tough skin affectionately. "Tosh, this is Mara."

Mara tensed as the rancor's enormous head rolled in her direction. The huge creature's wet nostrils quivered as it regarded her through beady eyes. She tried not to flinch as it pushed its head closer, a wuff of sour smelling breath ghosting over her. The beast rumbled, a low, deep sound Mara felt more than heard. The younger rancors turned at the sound, moving in closer to examine Mara as well.

"Skywalker!" Mara called in alarm as they crowded around her.

"They like you!" Kirana Ti said in delight.

Mara was not amused. With a whistle and a few commands, Kirana Ti convinced the rancors to back away from her. She smiled up at the monstrous beasts as she stroked a massive forearm. "They're just eager to carry you to the Jai ship."

"What?" Mara said. "We're not going ride them all the way to the _Chu'unthor!"_

"Why not?" Luke asked.

"I have a _ship,_ Skywalker. It would take no time at all to fly over and back."

"I think we should do it. It would be a good way to see Dathomir."

"The Nightsisters would probably try and take your ship if you took it out of the valley," Kirana Ti offered. "They're desperate enough to try something stupid like that." The implication being that even a desperate Nightsister was a dangerous one. Mara scowled, having the distinct impression that she was being outmaneuvered.

“Three rancors.” Damaya, the tall, serious leader of the guard, approached and joined the conversation, having obviously heard the tail end. “That will be enough to protect you from Nightsisters and predators and carry everything you need back from the wreck.”

 _“Three?”_ Mara exclaimed. Another rancor was shuffling closer to her, blinking its eyes curiously as she edged away.

“What will we need to know?” Luke was already planning it out, _Maker help her._ “Do we need to feed them?”

“We’ll teach you a few commands. They know the way there and can take care of themselves, and Tosh and can keep the other two in line.” At the sound of her name, the massive creature rumbled happily at Damaya. Mara glared at all of them.

“We can discuss the details later.” Damaya exchanged a look with Kirana Ti.

“Damaya and I have been talking,” Kirana Ti said at her cue. “I’d like to show you our spellcraft.”

"I'd love to learn some of your techniques for using the Force,” Luke said eagerly. Kirana Ti and Damaya looked dismayed.

"Men don't—" Kirana Ti started before cutting herself off. "I"m sorry, I forgot. I've _seen_ you cast spells and it still seems strange for men to have that ability. Men aren't even allowed to speak the language we use to cast spells."

“The offer was to Jai Mara,” Damaya said stiffly.

“But you know that I can use the Force,” he said. They were unmoved by that argument, so he tried a different tack. “What if I get permission from my wife?”

Kirana Ti and Damaya looked at each other. “That would be acceptable, I suppose…” Damaya said.

Luke turned to Mara. “Do I have permission?”

Mara looked at him coolly and shook her head. “No.”

“No?” he stared at her. Through the bond she could feel his surprise at her point blank refusal quickly turning to irritation.

“As your wife, I do not give you permission to learn Dathomiri spellcasting.” Let him see how much he enjoyed being handled.

“Mara—” He let his frustration flash through the bond, and Mara recoiled at the intensity. She realized that he was only doing to her what she’d been doing to him since the start of the trip: projecting hostility through the bond. The other two women watched them intently, sensing the Force-fueled tension in the air. “This is petty, Mara,” he said softly.

She shook her head again, stubbornly standing her ground. “No.”

She watched as he recomposed himself, pulling his presence back and drawing on the Force to cool his temper. He was always very careful with his anger, and for good reason, she knew. But sometimes she just couldn’t help provoking him. He had been patient with her, far more patient than she deserved, but she had figured out ways to get under his carefully constructed composure and sometimes she couldn’t help getting under his skin when she had the chance. It _was_ petty; she knew that. It wasn’t an impulse she was particularly proud of. What _was_ it about Luke that set her off?

"I'll go meditate," he said finally.

"Damaya can escort him back to the fortress," Kirana Ti said. "He’ll be safe with her—she's only interested in women."

"I just don’t see what you see in them," Damaya deadpanned, as if it were a running joke.

It was, to gauge from Kirana Ti’s laugh. “They’re nice to look at! Some of us still like to have them around, right, Mara?”

“Sometimes I’m not so sure,” she said, mainly to bait Luke. He shot her an exasperated look.

“Men!” Kirana Ti laughed softly, shaking her head as Luke and Damaya headed back to the fortress. “I hear you let some of them run things? That sounds like a disaster.”

“It has been, sometimes.” Mara’s early life had been dominated by powerful men, and it didn’t have much to recommend it.

Palpatine’s training had been devoid of theory and philosophy, entirely focused on using the Force as a tool. He hadn’t bothered to teach her how to sense to fine delineations between the dark and light sides of the Force; if she had fallen deeper into the dark side it would have only pleased him. She knew now that her training had been basic at best, and while that might have saved her from being entirely corrupted by the dark side, it now stunted her in ways she was beginning to resent.

Luke had been willing to do the painstaking job of retraining her, undoing the bad habits she’d developed and introducing her to a view of the Force that had been denied to her. At first it had been like being offered a gift, shiny and new, and Mara didn’t entirely trust it. There was always a catch with something given. But over time, she’d come to look forward to their lessons, as she began discover the what she’d been capable of all along. Luke freely admitted that his own training had been lacking, and was open to an exchange of information, to debate and discussion. Her previous education had been severe, to say the least, and Luke’s gentle instruction was a revelation. Mara had never experienced anything like it.

But in the last few months, being on Coruscant together and in each other’s heads, every session suddenly became highly charged. Training had become too personal and they’d crossed some sort of line she couldn’t define. They hadn’t had a single lesson since he’d proposed the Dathomir trip. And now here she was, about to learn a Force technique that _he_ didn’t know; a lesson that should have been his.

Kirana Ti led Mara away from the settlement, across the vegetable patches to an open field filled with long, purple grass. “We draw our magic from the natural world around us,” she began. “If your spells are in tune with the land, it will strengthen and protect you. We start young witches with a basic chant to allow them to connect with the source of their magic.” She recited the words of the chant carefully and Mara repeated them, shaping each word precisely. Kirana Ti nodded with approval. “Now, together—” her eyes fell half closed as she began the chant again with the full power of the Force behind her voice.

As Mara joined the song she felt the Force filling her, her senses expanding and stretching out beyond her own mind. She was startled to find herself reaching out to encompass the entire valley. The valley pulsed with the power of the Force, and Mara felt as though she could sense it all, down to each individual blade of grass. Everything resonated with the Force, from the earth under their feet to the rancors and humans that went about their business on the far side of the valley. Back at the fortress, Luke’s presence shone in her mind like a beacon, his connection to her like pure note rippling across the song.

The chanted spell wasn’t meant to control or coerce, but simply connect her to the energy that flowed through the land and people of Dathomir. They were all a part of the Force, in a way that Mara had never experienced before. When the last note ended, she came back into herself, feeling as should she were buzzing—no, _vibrating—_ with the resonant power of the spell.

Beside her, Kirana Ti’s presence glowed bright in the Force. “There are hundreds of spells,” she was saying. “It takes decades to master them all. We’ll start with a simple spell to call up a breeze.” Once again, she recited the words so that Mara could memorize them and Mara repeated them dutifully. “Asana _tō,_ ” Kirana Ti corrected her pronunciation. _Did it even matter?_ Mara wondered, when it was the spellcaster’s ability and intention that actually formed the spell, not the words itself. But the witches didn’t believe that. She knew that _she_ didn’t need words to connect to the Force, but she found the vocalization technique satisfying. There was a pattern and rhythm to the way the spells used the Force, almost like a beat in a song she had danced to as child.

“Now, we cast the spell,” Kirana Ti said, and began to sing. As she wove the pattern through the Force, Mara felt the air shift around them. She joined the song, bolstering Kirana Ti’s power, and she felt the spell building around them until she could feel the wind against her face, tugging at her hair. They’d crafted a zepher, that whirled around them, making the grass at their feet dance.

“Direction,” Kirana Ti called, launching into another verse. At her command, the breeze changed course, brushing against Mara’s back. Mara couldn’t figure out which words affected the change in direction, and she faltered, feeling her grasp on the spell slip as her concentration wavered. Kirana Ti sensed her stumble and let her side of the spell loosen as well, letting the song trail off and the breeze die away.

Mara took a shaky breath. She was slightly overwhelmed and struggling not to show it. If Kirana Ti noticed, she didn’t give a sign, launching right into the next lesson.

“Let’s continue with the spell to strengthen the breeze...”

 

\- -

 

They worked on spellcasting for the rest of the afternoon.

Mara found that she enjoyed spending time with Kirana Ti. She wasn’t bound by the alliances that ruled the Fringe or the New Republic, and she had no inkling of Mara’s past ties. She simply recognized a fellow warrior and spellcaster, without the baggage that most of Mara’s interactions carried these days.

Before the battle of Dathomir had wiped out most of the Nightsister clans, they’d far outnumbered the practicing witches of the Singing Mountain Clan, and were a threat to the clan’s very survival. Kirana Ti had grown up on a Dathomir dominated by Nightsisters. Her childhood had been ruled by fear of the darksiders who stole men and babies, killed rancors, and caused chaos among the clans. She had been raised to fight a ruthless enemy that was made of women closely related to her clan, Nightsisters who had been cousins and friends before falling under the spell of the dark side. That grim reality had made the witches tough and unsentimental, but after only a few years free of the Nightsisters’ reign of terror, their natural warmth and compassion had resurfaced as the clan flourished.

Unlike the other witches, Kirana was genuinely curious about the Jedi, and Mara tried to answer her questions as best she could. Mara wasn’t entirely comfortable speaking for Luke—and Jedi lore was entirely his domain, and definitely not hers—but Kirana Ti’s knowledge of the Jedi was so basic that it every simple fact was a revelation. They fell into easy conversation as they made their way back to the fortress as the sun sunk toward the mountains.

Mara found Luke back in their room, tinkering with a bit of machinery. “What’s that?” she said as she stepped into the room.

He looked up, rubbing the back of his hand against his cheek. “Oh, just one of the Hapan power sources. They don’t have a full-time mechanic in this clan, so they just set broken machines aside. I thought I could help out. Gave me something to do.”

Mara felt a tinge of guilt creep up on her. “Did you do this all day?”

“Hmm? No. I talked to Damaya and Mother Augwynne a bit first. And I meditated like I mentioned.” He set the half-finished project aside, and she handed him a wet cloth from the refresher to clean off his hands. “Thanks,” he said, as he rose, stretched, and put on his tabard and sash.

“I’m going to train with Kirana Ti again tomorrow,” she told him. “If you don’t mind putting off the trip to the Chu'unthor another day.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But you do mind that you can’t train with us.”

Luke sighed. “Yes, but I understand that that’s not the way things are done here. I need to respect our host’s wishes—even if I don’t agree with them.” He wasn’t angry at her anymore, but she could sense that he was still upset at being excluded from Kirana Ti’s lessons. There was still some resentment there behind the resignation, but he wasn’t trying to provoke her guilt, just laying out his feelings for her to understand.

She didn’t entirely understand why he felt the need to do that.

“There’s just so much I still don’t know about the Force,” Luke sighed. “I could spend the rest of my life just studying its complexities.”

“Like some sort of desert monk?”

Something about that phrase made him chuckle. “Maybe.”

Mara scoffed. “You like danger too much, flyboy.”

He laughed again. She felt a responding smile tugging at her mouth. She turned her head away.

“How did the lesson go?” he said, with an ease that was deliberately put on for her sake. She knew he was eager for any details, but he kept his curiosity restrained and she was grateful.

She felt her emotions surge at the memory, and words failed her. He felt it too, though the bond, but he kept his gaze mostly averted, watching her carefully from the corner of his eye. Her petty anger with him seemed inconsequential after that experience. She was brought up short by the realization that she was intensely grateful that he’d brought her along—although she wasn’t prepared to admit it yet. “I’ll tell you about it later—but I need to process it first.”

“I’d like that.” Her offered her his arm, tentative yet hopeful. She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, fingers resting against his sleeve, accepting the compromise. It was better than the skin to skin contact when he held her hand. Truce established, they headed down to the main hall.

As they sat for dinner, Mara maneuvered so that Kirana Ti and old Sister Tannath sat in between her and Luke. They might be on better terms now, but she still wasn’t going to spend another meal pretending to be his adoring wife. To her surprise, the rest of the nearby cushions were quickly filled by other witches who were eager to speak to the clan’s guests. This evening Mother Augwynne choose to sit at a different circle, and the younger witches seemed more relaxed without their clan mother present. Unlike their company the night before and the women they’d met in the village, the younger clan sisters seemed much more curious about their visitors, though their curiosity extended in a direction Mara wasn’t prepared for.

"How did you capture your husband?" Azbeth asked.

"Yes, tell us!" another sister chimed in. "Are Jai husbands harder to hunt down?"

Mara stared at her questioners, completely taken aback. She glanced at Luke, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation. He raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. She caught the quick flash of a memory flitting to the front of his mind. Myrkr.

"Y-yes. We were on the planet Myrkr. He tried to escape in a ship and I pursued him across the planet's surface until our ships crashed, and _then_ I had to drag him all the way back to civilization while fighting off vicious native wildlife and avoiding stormtroopers."

Several witches cursed the stormtroopers. “Did you slaughter them all?” Kirana Ti asked.

“Um... no.” Luke had, in fact, demolished the entire stormtrooper unit in a melee that was still famous in Hyllyard City. “Luke used his lightsaber to bring down an archway on top of them.” The Witches nodded in approval at the destruction of their old enemies.

“Then your hunt was worth it, for such a valuable breeder,” Azbeth said.

"Erm—" Mara stammered, nonplussed.

“Are male witches better lovers than normal men?” Shen asked.

 _Kriff._ The last thing Mara wanted to do was speculate about Skywalker’s sexual prowess. She glanced in his direction, but he’d ducked his head, avoiding her eyes.

“Well, I haven’t replaced him yet, have I?”

The sisters snickered, exchanging a lot of knowing looks.

"She hasn't used you too harshly, has she?" Shen nudged Luke, her suggestive tone full of implication.

"Um—no," Luke stammered. "Mara... treats me very well." The sisters snickered.

“Do you share?” Ooya whispered to Mara. It was clear what _share_ meant.

“ _No,_ ” Mara hissed back, surprised at her own vehemence. It occurred to her that she and Luke had never discussed the possibility that he might _want_ to have a fling with a Dathomiri witch. He’d been uncomfortable with the lascivious attention of the village women, but being propositioned by a young, available, and Force-talented Dathomiri witch was another situation entirely. She quickly squashed the ridiculous surge of emotion she felt at the idea of Luke slipping away with one the wild-looking clan sisters. She didn’t like the way her insides twisted up at the thought. She had no real right to stand in his way if he did; their relationship was just for show anyway. The conversation continued on as she grappled with the messy snarl of emotions the comment had provoked, now turning to their reproductive abilities. Mara nearly groaned aloud.

"No daughters yet, though," Shen made a noise of disapproval.

"You're young, don't worry," Azbeth reassured Mara.

"Maybe the Dathomir air will be good for you," Ooya made a suggestive gesture and the witches cackled.

“Fertility is very important.” Old sister Tannath’s voice cut through the laughter. “Do you know, the best position for fertility, child? Now, when you take his cock—”

Mara looked wild-eyed at Kirana Ti, begging her silently for a rescue. Kirana Ti looked confused for a moment; clearly she thought this was a completely normal topic for _dinner conversation._ Her expression changed to one of sympathy and she interrupted Tannath’s rambling and extremely explicit description. "Mara, Azbeth and I were wondering if you and your husband would give us a demonstration of your Jedi weapons."

"Yes! We've never seen a woman wield such a weapon," Azbeth said.

"Would you, Mara?" Shen chimed in. "I want to see what your Jai weapons can do."

Mara seized the opportunity Kirana Ti had offered to escape her current interrogation. She rose and pulled Luke to his feet. "Come along, husband."

There was a flurry of activity as the center of the hall was cleared to provide them a sparring area, and it seemed as though the entire Singing Mountain Clan crowded into the space along the walls. Mara removed her tunic, stripping down to a plain sleeveless undershirt for the match. Luke had been wearing his usual Jedi outfit, this particular set in a soft gray color that Mara liked. He didn't remove the tabard, as he might have done if they were training, but Mara supposed he considering fighting in full Jedi gear to be making a statement for their audience. She wondered if the gesture was somewhat lost this particular audience, as isolated as it was. They took opposite ends of the hall, facing each other, as they ran through a few preliminary stretches. They'd sparred for an audience before. Lots of people were naturally curious about lightsabers and it wasn't like Luke knew any other duelists when he was called on for a demonstration.

She unclipped her lightsaber from her belt, relishing the weight of it in her hand and the _snap-hiss_ as the blue blade sprung to life. Across the hall, Luke’s saber ignited in answer to her own. She could feel him reaching out through the Force as their bond sprung vividly to life, like a live wire stretched between them. It was during their sparring sessions that the bond, specifically designed for this purpose, was really given a chance to shine.

He sauntered toward her, twirling the blade in patterns meant to impress the audience. She raised an eyebrow at his theatrics, meeting his grin with a knowing smirk. They’d often argued about technique. She thought he was wasting his energy on showy spins that left him exposed to a tighter attack. He’d listened to her critique and still used those maneuvers anyway.

She stood her guard until he’d reached the center point of the hall and then leapt forward, their sabers engaging in a flurry of light and sound. She drove him quickly back across the floor in a brief demonstration of an offensive attack. He countered easily, meeting her blow for blow. It was a dance, with each partner anticipating the other’s steps. He thrust, she parried; his blade swept in a wide arc and she whirled under it.

With their minds so entwined, Mara relished the challenge of subverting the connection. She used the bond to nudge him to feint in a particular direction, subtly suggesting a move that would leave him exposed to her attack. He didn't fall for it, and lunged in the opposite direction, but she still caught his blow on her saber, laughing in exhilaration at his parry. She knocked his blade to the side and whipped her elbow around at his face, which he countered with a forearm. As it always did, breaking into hand to hand combat in the middle of a saber duel caught their audience by surprise, causing a murmur to ripple through the crowd. Good. She liked to keep everyone on their toes, and she could play a crowd too.

He sent a suggestion along the link and Mara huffed in annoyance even as she moved into place. It was a flashy move, completely impractical. Luke liked to use it in demonstration duels to add drama. In the next pass she slipped under his high thrust and past him, tossing her lightsaber behind her as he threw his still-lit lightsaber in the air in her direction. She reached out as she spun back towards him, and the hilt of his saber landed with a satisfying smack in the palm of her hand. He caught her saber as she caught his. The trick got exactly the reaction he was going for, as a gasp of appreciation swept across the hall.

She readjusted her grip on his lightsaber. It wasn't completely unfamiliar, but markedly different from hers. It was a weapon completely attuned to him, and with the bond humming between them, she was attuned to him as well. Her blade cast a blue glow across his face, alight with the joy of the fight as their sabers met again with a crack and a blue-green flash.

They broke apart on the final pass, and returned to their initial positions facing each other across the floor, breathing heavy with exertion. As Mara stared at Luke across the space of the hall, a burst of arousal flashed across the bond. Mara got an impression of a very different type of grappling _(hands and teeth and hips and oh),_ but the distinction between her thoughts and his had blurred so far that she wasn't sure which one of them had initiated it. She saw his eyes widen in reaction to the shared images and she pulled out of the link as quickly as possible, back into her own mind, where she could shield any wayward urges.

Meanwhile, the hall had erupted with sound as the clan began a spirited discussion of the duel they’d just witnessed. Several witches crowded around Mara to ask questions. Eventually, she made her way across the room to where Luke was standing, showing off her lightsaber to Damaya.

"You'll have to become a Jedi if you want one of your own," Luke teased her.

"It is a compelling argument," Damaya said dryly.

He extinguished the blade and offered the hilt back to Mara as she passed him his own.

“Well done, Mara,” he smiled at her.

She stifled the warm glow she felt at his words. “You didn’t do so bad yourself, Skywalker,” she said cooly. He grinned as though she’d praised him effusively.

Mara insisted that they wash off in a _proper_ shower, and they took a walk out to the ship still parked in the valley’s sole landing field. They took turns at the shower and the comm unit. The number of messages that were waiting for Mara were suspiciously low; Karrde must have been screening or blocking them for her. Mara found she was relieved that she didn’t have to face the responsibilities of her job right now. She felt a little more of her anger at Luke slip away. The truth of it was, she could have refused to come. Karrde wouldn't have liked it, but he trusted her judgment. She loved the challenge of working for his organization, but there were times when the work was boring and dirty and she hated it. She'd been restless and he knew it. Luke’s mission had offered her a change of pace she didn’t even realize she’d needed.

They walked back by the light of one of Dathomir’s moons. Luke carried a glowrod, but it was bright enough that Mara could see Luke wince when she asked him: "Did sister Tannath harass you about producing offspring too?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I got a very long lecture from Sister Tannath on how the Singing Mountain Clan treats their men very well and I shouldn't be putting silly ideas into their heads about running away to become Jedi."

Mara snorted. "You shouldn't go upsetting our hosts like that."

"They're essentially slaves, Mara," Luke said softly. "Women buy and sell men as they please. Jedi don't take slavery lightly."

"But you can't change an entire culture in a couple of days."

Luke sighed. "I know. I just want to do what I can."

The flash of affection Mara felt at his words took her by surprise, and she viciously smothered it before leaked across the link. He shot her a slightly confused look that suggested he'd caught some burst of emotion from her before she'd managed to block. She was getting tired, and she'd spent most of the day broadcasting her irritation just to spite him, so she wasn't shielding as effectively as she should.

“You don’t always have to be the hero, Skywalker.” Her tone was a little harsher than she’d intended.

“Oh? Do you want the job?”

Mara snorted. He’d asked the question flippantly even though they both knew how much he wanted her to join his cause.

“Mara, about what happened at the end of the duel—”

 _Kriff._ So it had been her after all. “Look, I’m sorry,” she cut him off. Count on Skywalker to choose an even touchier subject to bring up. “It was the heat of the moment—” She risked a glance at him. He was shielding very carefully, and the look of confusion on his face took her by surprise.

“I don’t—” he began.

“Adrenaline does funny things to your head. It could have happened with anyone.” _That_ was a blatant lie, and they both knew it. It wasn’t just anyone who was in her head, it was _him._ The one person in the universe that knew her better than anyone else. And besides that, it was next to impossible to lie undetected to someone who was linked to your brain.

She risked another glance. He was gazing at her thoughtfully. He wasn’t unattractive, she allowed herself to think. But giving in to a passing physical urge was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not with _Luke._

She didn’t want to think about this now. They were crossing a crude bridge across one of the small streams in the valley that fed into of the larger ponds, and Mara paused, looking down at the water. She took a deep breath, letting the words that Kirana Ti taught her fill her mind and then spill out of her mouth. A globe of water lifted out of the stream and rose to eye level, a perfect, dripping sphere. It hung there for a second, shining in the moonlight. Then the sphere wobbled, and Mara’s hands jerked up in front of her as though in a plea to stop. She looked more like a Jedi now, using her hands to conduct the direction of the Force; they began to shake as she worked to hold the sphere in place, the song wavering, but she couldn’t maintain the spell and the form dissolved, the water pouring back into the stream.

She leaned back, rubbing her shaking hands on her thighs. Exhaustion hit her suddenly, the last of the evening’s adrenaline burned up in an ill-advised attempt to show off. “Mara?” Luke murmured, his hand at her shoulder, steadying her.

“Stupid,” she muttered under her breath. She had been too tired to maintain the spell for more than a couple seconds.

“That was beautiful,” Luke countered. He was standing so that a shadow fell across his face and she couldn’t read his expression. His shields were up but she could feel the warmth of his presence in the Force and she couldn’t help but lean her own presence into his. He stepped back abruptly, turning back toward the path to the fortress. “You’re tired. Let’s get back to our room.” She nodded absentmindedly. He slipped his hand into hers again, and this time she almost didn’t mind, as he let a little of his strength flow across the link.

She jumped slightly as a huge figure loomed out of the darkness. “Tosh,” Luke breathed. The rancor rumbled quietly in reply, her small eyes glittering down at them in the dim light. She fell in beside them as they continued along the path, her massive shape moving along beside them in the night as she escorted them back to the fortress.


	3. Tour the Chu'unthor (Discounts Available)

Luke came slowly out of sleep, his brain muddled as consciousness gradually filtered in. There was another presence near him, too close for comfort, and he felt alarm flood his system as became aware of something or someone pressing down on him. He came fully awake with a jerk, lurching up and dislodging a sleeping Mara Jade. It had been her presence he felt as he woke, and the unfamiliar feeling of her limbs wrapped around him that had startled him. Their legs were still tangled together. Now she blinked up at him, baffled and irritated.

"What the—" Her voice dropped, low and dangerous. "What do you think you're doing, Skywalker?"

 _"You're_ the one who was wrapped around me!" His voice was pitched embarrassingly high.

"That's not possible." Mara slithered away as quickly as she could, disappearing behind the refresher curtain. She had slammed her shields down so tight it was hard for him to get a read on her. He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. He had been startled, that's all. He wasn't used to sharing a bed, and the last thing he expected in the morning was to find Mara Jade clinging to him like a monkey-lizard.

She stalked out again, pointedly not looking at him as she dug through her pack. He quickly looked away as she shucked off her sleeping tunic and began to change into her day clothes. He couldn't help a tiny grin. Apparently nudity didn't bother her, but being caught unconsciously cuddling her bedmate was _completely_ unacceptable.

Now dressed for the day in loose white tunic over a pair of tan pants, she stormed out of the room. Luke stood with a sigh and set about his own morning routine. He was just leaving their room when Mara came back around the corner. "Did you forget something?"

"You." She took his hand and practically yanked him down the hall. _”Apparently,_ I'm not supposed to let you out of my sight. Some people got _ideas_ about Jedi husbands after last night."

As they entered the hall, Mara lifted her chin, throwing a challenging glare at anyone who so much as looked in their direction. It was rather refreshing to see Mara's formidable glower turned on someone else for a change. Luke noticed fewer lascivious glances sent his way, which was something of a relief. Yesterday, clan sisters had openly propositioned him, but today they backed down in the face of Mara’s show of possession. He noticed a change in attitude toward Mara as well. In reasserting her claim on him, she'd won the witches' approval.

After breakfast Kirana Ti whisked Mara off for another session of witch lessons from which Luke continued to be excluded. It was deeply frustrating to miss out on a chance to learn more about how the witches used the Force, even if he _was_ glad for Mara. She’d been practically glowing when she’d come back the night before, her Force presence shimmering in a way he’d never felt before. His sense of her presence had always reminded him of a vivid splash of color, like an aurora borealis across the night sky. He recalled his shock the first time he’d sensed it, when she’d come to find him on Jomark, angry and frightened and _so bright._ She’d asked him to come with her, and how could he have resisted?

With a whole day to kill, he finalized the arrangements for their trip to the _Chu'unthor_ —speaking to the rancor trainers, assembling supplies, and studying maps. Afterwards, he shook off Damaya’s watchful escort and explored the fortress on his own. Han had told him some weird stories about his time at the fortress, but Luke had only been there briefly in the middle of the battle. It didn’t seem like such a bad place, now that the clan could relax without the immediate threat of the Nightsisters a constant danger. The upper levels, which had been heavily damaged in the battle, had been repaired and the top of the fortress offered a spectacular view of the valley. From up this high, he couldn’t spot Mara, though it was possible she and Kirana Ti were somewhere indoors for the day’s lessons. She was still keeping whatever she’d learned to herself, but he sensed it was no longer out of spite. Her anger with him had dissipated, though he didn’t think she’d completely forgiven him yet.

Eventually, he found himself back in their room, tinkering again, when she and Kirana Ti came back from wherever it was they’d been training. He felt her presence as she entered the fortress, and came to out to greet her when she approached their room. He found her in the hall in conversation with Kirana Ti and Damaya.

“Skyw—Luke,” Mara greeted him, stumbling over the more personal address. Kirana Ti and Damaya were becoming friends who might be trusted to keep their secret, but they still had to remember to keep their cover around the Dathomiri. He stepped close and risked dropping a quick kiss on her cheek for show. She gave him a blank stare. He didn’t quite cover the glee he felt at catching her by surprise, and her lips thinned in exasperation.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Damaya and Kirana Ti were telling me that there’s a dance tonight.”

“After dinner,” Kirana Ti said. “It’s the first dance of the summer moons.”

“And we’re invited?” Luke asked.

"Of course, but first—” Kirana Ti tsked, fingering Mara's jacket and running a critical eye over her outfit, the simple tunic and pants she’d chosen that morning. “We should get you in some _proper_ clothes."

Damaya crossed her arms and looked Mara over as well. "Agreed."

They disappeared again, leaving him to choose a nice shirt and pair of trousers (no need for his Jedi outfit tonight) and wait for Mara to reappear. He nearly dropped the tool he’d been fidgeting with when she walked back into their room again. She was now wearing a shimmering green lizard skin tunic that came halfway down her bare thighs. Over the tunic was a sleeveless open robe that reached the ground, the heavy cloth a blue so dark it looked nearly black. It was embroidered with images of birds in masterful needlework. Her hair was twisted up into an elaborate crown of braids on her head, decorated with a few glittering pins here and there. She wore her own boots.

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you think of me now, Farmboy?"

Luke swallowed. "It suits you."

She looked pleased. “Sure you don’t want to change into some Dathomiri leathers?”

“No, I’m fine.” Those leathers could be _revealing._

The clan had gathered outdoors in the clearing in front of the fortress’s wide entryway. People sat in clusters on the ground, children running around between the seated groups. Dinner was served on rough clay plates, simple food that could be easily eaten outdoors. A space had been left on the far end of the clearing, for the dancing, Luke realized. It was ringed with braziers, and a few men were rolling large wooden drums to a designated spot on the edge of the dancing ground. Night had already fallen, and the braziers lit the gathering in a warm glow.

Luke tipped his head back. He loved being able to see the stars. On Coruscant it was impossible to see through the haze and lights of the city. On Dathomir they shone brightly, though never as bright as the stars on Tattooine.

“Do the clans have any myths about the stars?” he asked Kirana Ti. Her lizard skin tunic was a glimmering blue, and she, like the rest of the witches, wore her helm, the bone and glass beads swinging gently from the helm’s antlers as she moved.

"We learn from our mothers that stars are faraway suns and planets, and we descended from people who came from those planets." Kirana Ti said with a smile as she gazed upward. "But there are still stories and legends from the old days. Back before Mother Allya came to us, the Dathomiri worshiped thousands of gods. Gods of war, gods of fire, gods of love.

"The gods were petty and cruel and they caused famine and war between the clans. When Mother Allya came from the stars, she saw the pain the gods were causing the clans, so she cast a great and powerful spell. It banished the gods into the sky, where they can never cause us trouble again."

"That's a lovely story," Luke said.

“The first two moons will be up soon and we won’t be able to see them at all.”

The music started up, flutes and drums, and several instruments that Luke couldn't even begin to identify. A group of teenage girls took to the center of the clearing, lining up in a row for a well-coordinated dance, their arms and legs moving in a series of fluid steps.

Mara's face lit up at the sight of the dancing. She watched the dancers intently, and as she watched the dancers, he watched her. It was rare to see her simply enjoying something, her green eyes sparkling, her face unguarded, and he basked in the delight that rolled off of her.

When the young women streamed away from dance floor, the young men of the clan took their place. Their languid, provocative dance was clearly for show, and the women laughed and cheered them on. Luke didn't completely understand the language of the dance, but the intention was _very_ obvious. A few of the older husbands joined the dancers, their gestures even more outrageous, judging from the hoots of the audience.

The music shifted again, the drums picking up as the music took on a lively beat and the clan women moved onto the dance floor. Kirana Ti took off her helm and leapt up, pulling Mara with her into the circle of dancers. She and the other women had removed their outer robes and the lizard skin tunics they wore glittered by the light of the braziers.

Luke had never seen Mara dance before, though he knew it had been part of her training since she’d been a small child. She’d always moved with a dancer’s grace, but here that movement was fully realized, as she swayed to the drumming beat. Though new to the dance, she picked up the gestures quickly, her face focused and intent, wrapped up in the pleasure of the movement.

Luke was suddenly feeling very flushed. He needed fresh air; he needed a moment to run through a Jedi calming technique. _Control_ —he needed to remain in control. He left the clearing, taking a short walk away from the music and lights.

The night before he’d meant to apologize for the fantasy that they’d shared through the bond, but then _she_ had, and now he was uncertain _who_ had triggered those particular images and mortified at how distasteful they must have been to her. He’d felt her discomfort as clear as day. She’d shut him down before he’d even had a chance to explain himself, and made it clear that she wasn’t open to the idea of anything beyond their friendship. It would be inappropriate for him to press the issue. How to typical of him to place his affections where they weren’t wanted.

When he returned to the firelit circle, the older women were performing a slower, more stately dance, their helms bobbing and glinting in the light. He found Mara and Kirana Ti sitting together, heads close as they chatted. Kirana Ti said something that made Mara laugh, the crown of hair on her head flashing a deep red in the firelight as she moved. She sensed his approach and tossed a crooked smile over her shoulder at him. He was hit with a stab of longing that cut through him with breathtaking intensity.

She didn’t notice and he was profoundly grateful that his shields held in spite of the link between them. From behind that barrier, he could hold that desire to himself. He could marvel at her, this fiercely brave, loyal, heartbreakingly damaged woman that he wanted. She simply didn’t want him.

The barrier had to hold.

 

\- -

 

It had been arranged that they would ride Tosh to the site of the wreck, with two juveniles named Tika and Ro carrying supplies. Damaya considered them enough of a guard against the local wildlife. The rancors were trained to battle Nightsisters as well, but Damaya didn't think they'd run into any lurking around that part of the countryside.

Kirana Ti had offered to join them as a guide, but that morning a Nightsister had been spotted in the far southeast corner of the valley, and the guard was assembled to drive her out. Kirana Ti seemed disappointed but accepted that her duties to the clan still came first. She showed Mara how to climb up the side of the massive creatures and mount the leather saddle secured on Tosh’s back. As Luke settled in the seat behind her, he recalled the journey he’d taken seated behind Teneniel Djo, both of them struggling to work through their feeling for each other. It seemed like a long time ago.

He hadn’t forgotten how awkward it was to perch behind an attractive woman while simultaneously trying to keep his seat with as much dignity as the lurching, jolting ride would allow. Rancors were not the most comfortable way to travel. But they knew the route and were able to travel quickly and efficiently through Dathomir’s often treacherous terrain, skillfully scaling the mountain pass that lead out of the valley and taking them into the wooded hill country beyond. They left the valley just as the sun was beginning to rise, and it took nearly the entire day to travel the distance to the swampy lowlands where the _Chu'unthor_ was stranded.

After several hours on a rancor’s back, Luke was beginning to get used to the rocking motion of their gait as they loped across the dramatic wilds of Dathomir. The woods gave way to scrubland, and then to the wide marsh where the _Chu'unthor_ had crashed centuries before. The ship was impossible to miss; a rusted metal hulk rising out of the swamp.

They found a dry spot to set up camp not far from the ship. The two younger rancors attempted to follow Mara around after she had dismounted, but backed off after she'd hollered at them for a few minutes. They unpacked the supplies the rancors had carried and each set up a small tent for themselves, under the watchful eyes of the rancors and a small flock of speckled avian lizards perched in a stunted tree nearby. Luke figured Mara need some space when she set her tent up at the far end of the camp from his. It was too late in the day to break into the wreck, but Luke wanted to at least take a closer look before it got too dark, so they set off to paddle across the marsh to the massive structure drowned in the muck.

The _Chu'unthor_ had sunk even further into the swamp. Only the upper decks rose above the mire, tilted at an angle. There was still a pair of rafts at the edge of the bog (Luke suspected that they'd been left there recently in anticipation of his visit) and it didn't take long to paddle out to the ship. They climbed up the angled wreck of the praxeum ship, stepping carefully across the rusted and weathered metal. As before, every entryway into the ship had either been welded or rusted shut. However, the seals that had kept out the witches had failed to keep out the swamp. Water had filled all of the lower levels, and moisture had corroded metal in the interior of the ship. They'd have to be careful. The ship was dotted with transparisteel domes that looked down into the interior of the ship, though exposure to the weather had pitted and scratched the domes so heavily that they were no longer fully transparent.

Luke scaled to the very top of the wreck, and stood, gazing out over the remains of the ship and the waste beyond it. He could see Mara, far below, clambering along the edge of the wreck, attempting to circumnavigate the sunken ship. The sun was getting low, washing the rusted wreck in a bronze glow. What would their lives have been like, He wondered, if the Republic and the Jedi had never fallen? They could have trained as Jedi and dedicated their lives to the Order and the peace and justice it had provided the galaxy. Jedi aside, their entire lives would have been different if the Emperor's oppressive regime had never happened. Luke couldn't bring himself to regret his Tatooine childhood, but he wished the Mara had been spared the horrors of her early life.

 

\- -

 

"You're kidding me." Mara stared at their campsite in horror as Luke tried struggled not to laugh. There was rancor-sized footprint where her tent had been, the crushed remains scattered on the ground. The rancors were huddled at the far end of the camp, watching the two humans warily. Mara turned her glare on them. If it were possible for a rancor to look sheepish, they did. "You," she pointed at the rancors. "Stay away from the camp." They understood her tone, if not the words themselves, and bobbed and shuffled nervously. She blew out a breath, turning away. "Unbelievable."

"We can share my tent," Luke suggested. "I'd offer to sleep outside, but it looks like rain."

"Fine."

Although the tent was a more confined space than their room at the fortress, it was roomy enough for two and they at least had separate bedrolls, which seemed to mollify Mara somewhat. The clan cooks had wrapped up a meal for them to share, which was easy to heat over the small travel stove they’d brought along. They ate seated by a heating unit under the stars. A short way off from the camp, the rancors were grunting and making deep rumbling noises and sounds that Luke suspected registered below a frequency that humans could hear. Mara looked uneasily in their direction.

"Teneniel Djo says that they tell stories about their history," he told her.

The heads of the younger rancors bobbed in their direction. Mara shifted under their gaze. "It feels like they're talking about me."

"Maybe they are. Kirana Ti did say that they liked you."

“The feeling’s not mutual,” she grumbled, but underneath her show of bad temper, he could sense… amusement?

“You’re not _really_ angry.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Skywalker,” she said with feigned loftiness. “Stay out of my head.”

Now he grinned unabashedly at her. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t suppress the emotion that flowed across the bond, which Luke could identify as the closest thing to affection Mara would let herself express toward others. Knowing how rare it was, it warmed him more than the heating unit could. He wanted to encourage her, to tease the feeling out further, but he suspected that she would mistake it for emotional manipulation and close down entirely. So he just let it shimmer quietly between them, enjoying her presence and the easy conversation that carried on into the evening.

 

\- -

 

Luke woke in the middle of the night when an arm smacked across his face. He was disoriented at first, and it took him a moment to get his bearings and realize that the blow that woke him was not, in fact, an attack. Mara was jerking around in her sleep, lashing out and muttering. He could sense her nightmare like a sour taste in his mouth. He reached out instinctively through the bond without even thinking about it and watched with amazement as she instantly calmed, her agitation dissipating at the gentlest touch of minds. She stilled, her breathing deep and steady once again as she settled into a deeper sleep.

He’d slipped into her mind like it was nothing— _It shouldn't have been that easy._ Luke was now wide awake. The ease with which their minds connected suggested that this was something much deeper than a training bond. What had he _done?_ He’d created a link that had somehow grown into a profound connection between them.

He’d never established a training bond with anyone before and it was disturbing to realize that he’d given himself access to _Mara’s mind._ Mara was a private person, fiercely independent, and he couldn't imagine she'd be thrilled to be so intimately connected to another person. To _him._ Palpatine had used just such a connection to manipulate and abuse her, a thought that filled Luke with horror. She’d been so terrified of C’baoth taking control of her mind that she’d asked him to kill her instead. He couldn’t imagine that she’d react well to another Force-user having access to her.

It was a long time before soft patter of rain on the tent lulled him to sleep again.

 

\- -

 

When Luke woke again at daybreak, a now-familiar warmth was curled up against his back. Her arm was slung over him, her face buried into his shoulder. He smiled, listening to the steady sound of her breathing. He was starting to enjoy waking up next to Mara. As it began to grow lighter, he eased out from under her arm, trying not to disturb her. She stirred and rolled away, still half-asleep and muttering something incoherent.

He took the opportunity to dress and prepare for the day as Mara still dozed. He had time to prepare breakfast before she emerged from the tent, still looking groggy. He needed to talk to her at some point about the significance of the bond they'd formed, but he wasn’t eager to bring it up. He still had a feeling it was his fault. Besides, there was another issue he wanted to tackle first. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired," she shrugged, and then looked over at him suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"You had a nightmare last night," he said. She flinched, glancing away. "The meditation routine I do in the evening before I go to sleep helps, you know, with the nightmares." She studied her breakfast intently. "We all have our traumas, Mara. It doesn't make you weak to accept help."

She didn't respond at first. "They're not as bad as they were.” Her mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “At least the dreams about murdering you went away once I got Palpatine's command out of my head."

"Are they always that violent?"

"Sometimes," she mumbled.

They were interrupted by a bellow that sounded across the marsh, and the rancor Tika bounded toward their camp, the fresh-killed body of a large reptile clutched in his long talons. Mara narrowed her eyes at the creature and he stopped at a respectful distance, dropping the reptile onto the ground at the edge of their camp with a wet flop. He sat back on his haunches, watching Mara intently.

Mara eyed the rancor. “I’m not eating that,” she said.

“I just think he’s trying to impress you.”

She stood, walking slowly over to Tika. She examined the corpse and gave an approving nod. “Good job,” she said loudly. The rancor practically puffed up with pride. Ro rumbled discontentedly from the other side of the camp, and loped off into the morning fog. Mara looked after her in dismay.

“Let’s get to the wreck,” Mara said. “Before they find something else to impress me with.”

Luke forgot to bring up the bond again.

 

\- -

 

They picked out a likely section of the wreck, where Luke thought the training rooms of the praxeum would be. He’d peered into the scoured domes in order to map out the living and recreation quarters, to rule out larger areas they didn’t need to search.

“If we cut into the hull here, we could drop into a corridor that connects that training room—” He pointed to a large transparisteel dome, “to what looks like a workshop over there.”

“I’ll do it,” Mara said. “There’s a technique I was taught for cutting through the hull of a ship from this angle.” She unhooked the weapon from her belt and pointed it down at the deck.

“Wait,“ Luke said. “Can you teach me the technique instead?”

She hesitated a moment as she realized what he was asking, and then nodded, rehooking the lightsaber to her belt. He felt her reach out and take control of the bond. He activated his own lightsaber and held it above the ship’s hull. She stepped closer to stand beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder to amplify the connection between them. She projected her instructions into his mind as she guided his motions though the exact angle of the bevel cut that bisected the deck. She didn’t communicate in words, but he felt her clear approval at the smoothness of the of his stroke, or her mental nudge when the blade shifted too far.

When the cut was finished, he used the Force to lift the slab of metal up and to the side. He could feel Mara’s strength flowing through the hand still resting on his shoulder, bolstering his efforts. It felt right, the way a bond should work, the Force flowing back and forth between them. But as soon as the metal hit the deck Mara stepped away from him, her focus shifting to the hole cut into the side of the ship. She shone a glowrod into the dark space below. They secured a rope ladder and climbed down into the body of the _Chu'unthor_ at last. The air was stale and smelled of rust and mold. The ship’s artificial gravity had long failed, and the floor was tilted at an obvious angle. They headed downhill, toward the training room.

It was easy to see by the light that filtered through the scarred dome in the ceiling. The floor of the training room was littered with round remotes, of a different style than the ones that Luke had used, rusted in place on the slanted floor. Like a sports arena, the training room was marked with lines that denoted some system of scoring points, though the finer details of play were probably lost forever. Mara crouched down, running a finger thoughtfully along one of the demarcation lines. She tugged at one of the remotes until it came loose in her hand, examined it, and then tossed it at him. He caught it and turned it over in his hands. "These will be useful, at least."

"If we can get them to work," she said.

"If take back enough of them, we'll be able to scavenge enough parts to make a few working remotes." He placed the remote on the ground. They could come back for it later; he wanted to get the lay of the land first. “When I was here before I noticed a lightsaber workshop.”

“That’ll be even more useful,” Mara said, standing. “Let’s look for it.”

After the crash and the battle with the witches, the ship had been evacuated, and the Jedi students had fled back to Coruscant. Under the conditions of the cease-fire, they’d left the ship sealed but intact. It had sat in the swamp for centuries, the rooms left as they had been when the ship had been abandoned. The ship had been a state of the art training academy, equipped with every necessity for educating a school of young Jedi. There were more game rooms, filled with mysterious equipment that generations of pupils had used to hone their skills in Force, their functions and purpose now lost. They passed through a dozen spacious meditation rooms, and Luke made note of the way each room was laid out as they moved from room to room. It could be useful when designing the new Praxeum’s meditation spaces. The lightsaber workshop was a treasure trove. They found cases of crystals and all the materials and tools necessary for lightsaber construction. It was an inestimable find; now the new Jedi order wouldn’t have to scavenge for antique parts for their lightsabers.

Not every discovery was as fruitful. Luke’s heart sunk when they found the library. It had already been cleared of most of the datacards and books that had once lined the shelves. The reading monitors had been deliberately destroyed, and the remaining materials were in bad condition. Mara sorted through a decayed stack of datacards, shaking her head. “These are planetary reference files—centuries out of date.”

“I knew that Mother Rell had given me the the most valuable files the Jedi left behind, but I was hoping there’d still be something…”

“Ah-ha!” Mara said. “Training files!” She lifted the datapack triumphantly in her hand. Eager to check the file’s contents, Luke spent a half hour jury rigging a reader from the ancient and damaged machines. (Mara assisted, a position she didn’t care for. That was another side effect of the bond—there was no mistaking when Mara was bored.) When he turned on the reader, he was disappointed to find that most of the data had been corrupted beyond recovery. He activated a training file and ghost-like projections of dead Jedi masters filled the room, blinking in and out of existence as the file glitched, their voices distorted and incoherent. Luke turned it off.

“I can have Ghent look at it,” Mara offered.

“Not sure it’ll be worth it. But thanks.”

Just past the library was a series of learning centers, rooms of various sizes filled with groups of chairs and desks. There were lecture halls filled with dozens of seats and smaller rooms in which the chairs and desks were molded up from the floor in permanent configurations—rows or small intimate circles, depending on the classroom.

Mara was slightly ahead of him, and he felt her surge of emotion as she entered one of the rooms before he registered the scene in front of her. It was clearly a classroom for children, with low tables and very small chairs arranged in a circle. Mara walked into the center of the circle, her hand brushing the back of a child's chair as she passed.

"They took young children away from their families," she said darkly, and then hesitated. She'd been taken from her family as well, to serve a purpose greater than herself that had turned out to be hollow and evil. "That's—that's what I was told," she stumbled over the words, shaking her head. "I don't know if that's true," she said softly. She looked around the room, but he didn't know whether she was really seeing the room itself or more personal ghosts. "You might have been right, you know," she continued. "About what you said about what I think of the Jedi academy. I don't know what if I know about the Jedi Order is real or just propaganda and lies Palpatine told me." Her anger surged at the thought of her former master. “I don’t—I don’t know what’s true…”

He remembered the moment when a single truth—that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker—had turned his world upside down and made him reconsider his entire life in a new light. He’d come to terms with it on the Death Star. But for Mara, it was an ongoing process to unlearn everything she was raised to believe.

"He didn't turn me over to the Dark Side, but he poured lies into my head every day, shaping me into the perfect servant," she said, her voice and expression hard, her eyes on the circle of tiny chairs.

"But he couldn't corrupt the core of you, Mara. You've always been someone who was loyal and honorable at heart." He marveled that in that face of overwhelming emotional deprivation and annihilation of self, she had unconsciously clung to that scrap of light within her.

"You're too forgiving, Luke," she said harshly.

He gave her a helpless half-shrug, shaking his head. "I have to be."

"In order to find good in Palpatine's broken toys?" It was a bit cruel, but he suspected she was lashing out in response to the vulnerable moment.

"Because I can't give up on that good," he said. "You aren't broken, Mara."

"Just cracked," she said dryly. As always, she shied away from his optimism, tempering it with an ironic shield.

"We’re all a little cracked, aren’t we?”

She gave him a brittle half-smile. "If you're right about me, then Palpatine would have disposed of me one way or the other. I was always expendable. Maybe he meant his last command to break me—that it would push me over the edge to the Dark Side. Or I'd die at your hand; either way'd suit him."

Luke stared at her in horror. He moved beside her, reaching out to clasp her hands in his. Memories rushed across the bond—she was very small, being made to watch as her master tortured a Nautolan in the robes of a Jedi, her certainty that this is what dangerous traitors deserved warring with her revulsion at the cruelty on display— _I was too young to know any better, I was absolutely devoted to him_ —she was thrusting in the knife that took the life of a senator from Naboo, her throat tight as the woman fell over the edge of the balcony, her scream up echoing up and lodging itself in her memory— _I thought I was serving the good of the galaxy, that I was a vessel for order and justice, and it was all lies, all of it_ —returning to her solitary quarters, cold and bare of holos or any other decoration, that familiar hollow feeling setting in her chest— _was I always meant to be alone or was that the way_ he _built me?_ Luke flinched, taking an involuntary step back as the pain of those memories came into sharp focus.

She narrowed her eyes. _You can’t handle it._

He tightened his hold on her hands. _I can._

 _You can’t. But it’s nice that you think you can._ As patronizing as that sounded, he felt a deep sadness behind the words. He was conscious she was still holding back memories that she couldn’t bring herself to share.

He tried to counter with words of reassurance: _you didn’t fall, Mara, you freed yourself, you’re not alone._ He felt her retreat a first, shying away from his offer of comfort, borne of instincts and habits that had been drilled into her her entire life. Then slowly, hesitantly, she reached back across the bond, weaving her presence around his. _You don’t need to carry this alone, I’m here._ He felt the swirling tumult of darkness and pain within her begin to calm. It wasn’t gone; it was part of her, but it was under her control again.

She looked up at him, an odd expression on her face as though she’d just figured something out that had surprised her. He gave her a curious nudge through the link and she closed him off, glancing away.

Mara was quiet as they packed up for the day and head back to camp. He wanted to comfort her—with an ache that built up in his chest every time he looked at her—but he knew she still needed time.

 

\- -

 

The next day took them deeper into the ship.

They found a series of storage rooms where the ship’s decay was more pronounced than the training spaces they’d explored the previous day. “There must be a break in the hull nearby,” Mara speculated on the level of corrosion. Many of the crates had rusted shut, or their contents rotted away.

“There has to be something here that we can salvage,” Luke said. “More parts, maybe?”

“Nothing in this stack,” Mara said, dismissing a box of linens that had practically turned to dust. She headed further into the storage space toward a tower of crates stacked against the wall.

“Careful,” Luke said, as the Force prickled across his skin. “That section’s not safe.”

Mara nodded. “I can feel it too,” she said, but continued to make her way doggedly across the room. With a grinding sound of metal wrenching loose, the floor gave out from under her feet and Mara disappeared.

Luke instantly reached out through the bond and winced as he sensed her hit the floor below, which gave as well with a screech of rusted metal, dropping her deeper into the ship. Her pain flashed through him like wildfire. He threw himself into the Force, allowing his mind to spread out and sense the whole of the ship surrounding them. He was aware of every inch of rusted metal; could feel the precise shape of the gaping hole in the deck where the weakened metal had given way. His awareness swirled around Mara, where she lay several levels down. She was conscious but shaky, and he clenched his jaw as a fresh wave of pain washed through the bond. He wrapped the Force around her, lifting her up, carefully raising her through the gaps in the ship. He had to resist the urge to pull her back to him as quickly as possible, having a care for her condition and the treacherous route through the jagged hole in which she’d fallen.

She floated up through the shattered floor and he laid her down gently on a solid section of the deck. She was a mess, covered in scratches from the rusted metal and holding her left arm awkwardly. “Dislocated elbow,” she hissed. “I tried to catch my fall and—” Her eyes unfocused as she used the Force to assess the injury. “Minor dislocation. Sprained the wrist too. And my ankle. I tried to use the Force to catch my fall, but..”

“Anything broken?” He was already passing a hand over her ribs.

“No… just banged up good.” She’d been scratched through her clothes and was bleeding in places, but none of it looked serious. “Can you—?”

“Yes. Hold still.” He placed his hands on her elbow, the Force allowing him to sense the structure of her arm and mind the damaged tendons and ligaments as he worked. He carefully eased the joint back into place. _"Kriff!"_ She shouted, slamming her other fist against her thigh. He gasped as felt the pain ripple back through the bond. She looked at him, her eyes wide. “Are you feeling that too? Why aren’t you shielding?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or _won’t?”_

 _Both,_ he thought. “I want to put you in a healing trance right away.”

“Here?” she said. “No. I can wait until we get back to camp.”

“Just a short trace. You need to start healing the elbow, and I don’t want you walking on that ankle until the swelling goes down.”

“One hour,” she said, glaring at him.

“Do you want me to wrap your arm first?”

She grimaced. “Do it while I’m under.”

He gave her three hours. There was a small first aid kit in his pack, and while she was unconscious he wrapped up her arm and ankle and used a bacta wash on her scratches. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and dabbed at a gash on her chin. The flesh was already knitting back together as the Force flowed through her body. They’d come a long way, he reflected. There was a time Mara wouldn’t have been unconscious for even a second in his presence; she’d spent their trip across Myrkr furiously downing stim pills and running herself to the edge of her of her endurance. Now he smiled at the memory of that awful trip. He’d been in awe of her even then, though it had been mitigated by his own distrust and irritation. He wished he could let her remain in the trance longer, but he wanted to get them back to camp before the sun had set. He gently eased her from the trance. 

“How are you doing?” he asked as he helped her sit up.

“Better. Arm still throbs, but it’s better.”

“Do you think you can stand?”

 _“Yes,”_ she said, and he felt her clear exasperation with his hovering, with the situation, with herself.

It was a slow journey through the ship and back to the camp. They had a brief spat over whether he should use the Force to lift her out of the ship; he won, and she glared at him as he levitated her through the hole he’d cut. Her ankle was still tender and climbing down the side of the _Chu'unthor_ proved to be a laborious process. Mara didn’t complain, but he could feel her struggling to maintain her hold on a pain suppression technique.

They had a larger medical kit at the camp, complete with a split for her arm. He sat her down in the center of the camp so that he could work on her arm, unwrapping the hasty bandage he’d given her on the ship and sliding the splint in place. She cursed colorfully under her breath, her face tense with pain. He tugged on the bond to catch her attention and then guided her through steps of the pain suppression technique again. She eased out a breath. “I keep slipping out of it,” she said, with a twist of her lips. “It’s hard to concentrate on pain suppression when you’re _in_ pain. I’m out of practice.” He felt an intense desire to comfort her and had to restrain himself from embracing her. He knew that Mara was picking up his emotional state, but he couldn’t hide it from the bond. Not when he had himself so open to her.

"Luke." She said softly, reaching across to take his hand. He caught a flash of longing and reached across with his other hand to touch her cheek. Her eyes closed as he cupped her face, and she tipped her head forward until their foreheads touched. He could feel her pain seeping through the link. And something else as well...

He drew back. "Mara. You're hurt."

"Distract me," she said softly, her eyes still closed.

He found himself leaning forward again, gently brushing his lips against hers. She sighed and leaned into him, her mouth opening to welcome his tongue as deepened the kiss. He could feel the desire blooming inside her, a revelation to them both.

He should stop. As much as he wanted this, she wasn’t in any state to fool around. He broke the kiss, leaned back to watch her face. Her lips were still slightly parted and she hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but he could feel the swirl of desire, exhaustion, and pain clearly through the bond. He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and stroked his thumb across her cheekbones.

“You need to rest.”

She sighed and nodded. Luke reached out a hand to stop her as she began to fumble one-handedly with her belt. _“Mara._ Don’t—you’re injured. Let me.” She tried to pull back, her mouth opening to form an automatic protest, but the movement jarred her arm, and her face twisted into a wince instead. He gave her a reproving look.

“It’s not that bad,” she protested. “I’m not a _complete_ invalid.”

“If you let me do it, you won’t pull something and make it worse.”

“Okay,” she agreed with a reluctant scowl. He removed her utility belt and holster, which he folded and put next to the rest of her belongings. When he turned back to her, she was already struggling to remove her shirt, and he took over, carefully easing the garment over her injured arm. He helped her crawl into the tent and lay back onto the bedroll, making sure that the arm was cushioned at her side. He hesitated over her, his hand hovering above the clasp to her pants. “Go on,” she said softly. He carefully stripped off her boots, socks, and then pants, lingering over her twisted ankle. She gave a soft sigh of relief as he stroked his hands over the ankle, the healing power of the Force flowing through his fingertips.

He crawled back up to lean on one elbow beside her. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, her fingers playing lightly against his cheekbone. Her eyes glittered in the dim light. “Luke,” she whispered. He leaned down to kiss her again, reveling in the feel of her lips against his.

He broke the kiss. “Mara, you’re hurt. We shouldn’t—”

“Take my mind off of it,” she breathed, nipping at his jaw. Her fingers slid up to his temple and she fully opened up her side of the link. Her arousal crashed over him like a wave. He found himself kissing her frantically and pulled back to fix her with a stern look.

 _“Mara._ That wasn’t fair.”

She smiled faintly. “I don’t play fair.” Her hand moved down his neck and across his chest. “I’m _fine._ I _want_ you.” There were probably other reasons that they shouldn’t do this, but Luke, desperate to offer comfort and drunk on their mutual lust, was finding it easier to set those aside. For now. For the night.

His ran his hand lightly up her stomach and over a still-covered breast. She made a delightful, breathy noise, squirming into his touch. A delicate network of scars, faint against her pale skin, spread across her chest, a souvenir of their encounter with C’baoth. He leaned down to mouth his way down her neck to the other breast, teasing the nipple through the cloth. Her approval hummed through the bond. He let his hand slide down, and he groaned at the cry she made when he cupped her. Her hips jerked up into his hand as he touched her, the motion awkward as she tried not to jostle her ankle too much.

He lifted his head from her breast to watch her, flushed and panting, no sign of the pain that had marked her features earlier. She gave a strangled snarl when he slid his hand out from under her underwear, which changed to an approving hum when he gently removed her remaining garments. “Take off your clothes,” she ordered, and he quickly complied, spurred on by the impatience she was projecting through the link. She scrabbled at his shoulders with her right arm, attempting to pull him over her. _“I’m fine,”_ she hissed as he carefully eased on top of her.

“I can _tell,”_ he chuckled; she was still projecting clearly across the bond, every brush of his body against hers sending a flash of pleasure through them both. He kissed back down to her breast again, enjoying the feel of the nipple under his tongue. Balancing his weight on one arm, he ran a hand along the soft skin of her inner thigh, her leg splayed open to accept his hips against hers. Her thoughts tumbled against his— _yes, good, more, luke, pleasepleaseplease_ —and he couldn’t hold back any longer and pushed into her tight heat. _yesyesyesyes_ rang through their intertwined minds.

When he pulled back and thrust into her again Mara let out an extremely vulgar smuggler's oath. Luke laughed breathlessly, burying his face in her neck. She tugged his hair (and _oh,_ he liked that), to pull up his head in order to give him an irritated glare that melted away as he moved again.

She made sharp little cries as thrust in and out of her and he groaned, as his hips jerking hard against her. The sounds she made were absolutely shredding the remains of his control. He felt their combined pleasure echoing across the bond, a heady sensation that spiraled higher and higher until they were moving together frantically as they raced towards that peak. He was pretty sure Mara tipped over the edge first, but was hard to tell with the Force binding them together, their minds awash with pleasure as she pulled him after her.

He came back to himself to the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tent, Mara’s hand still clenched tightly in his hair. As he moved off of her she made a face. “Sticky,” she complained.

He laughed and kissed her temple. “I’ll clean us up and then you should try another healing trance.” She rolled her eyes.

She fell asleep before he’d finished, drifting off with a contented expression on her face, her lips ever so slightly tilted into a soft smile. He brushed a hand lightly across her cheek as he sunk her into the healing trance. He marveled once again that she trusted him so completely now, that she had been willing to share her mind and body, that, even just for the night, she had _wanted him._ He just hoped that he’d be able to put that smile on her face again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on safe sex: My headcanon is that BOTH men and women in GFFA can receive birth control and STD injections or implants. Luke's had his birth control injections, and he assumes (correctly) that Mara's smart enough to have had hers as well, and vice versa. No accidents or space chlamydia here.


	4. Dathomir is for Lovers

 

Mara walked down the long halls of the Imperial Palace, her booted footsteps echoing in the empty space. She was wearing a uniform that she often wore for formal meetings with the Emperor: black, high-collared, with a short red-lined capelet falling over her shoulders to her elbows. The further she wandered, the more her anxiety rose and she felt a wave of foreboding wash over her. _Where was Luke?_ She couldn't find him anywhere in the empty palace, and her chest felt tight as searched room after room. She reached down for her lightsaber—the one that he had given her—and nearly panicked when she realized it was gone. Tamping down her fear she hurried faster through the empty halls.

The rooms had changed and Mara felt a surge of relief when she realized that she was now walking through Jabba's palace. Luke had been here; she'd find him now! Jabba's was as empty and dead as the Imperial Palace had been, and she abandoned it to walk out into the desert.

She walked until she saw the weathered dome of a small farmstead rising out of the barren landscape. She'd never been there before, but she knew somehow that it was the place Luke had been raised. She found him staring out at the two suns setting over the horizon, a light wind blowing his hair back. He turned as she approached, said her name and held out his hand. She took it, and felt his calm presence reach out and embrace her.

The dream faded as she fell deeper into sleep.

 

\- -

 

When Mara woke she found Luke's arm slung over her waist, his breath steady on the back of her neck. Sometime in the night, she'd rolled away from him and he'd rolled after her. Even though his breathing remained steady, she could tell he was already awake. She let herself relax back into the warmth of his presence.

A day and two nights had passed since her fall. The long stretch she’d done in a healing trance overnight had taken care of most of her injuries, but Luke had insisted that she take the following day off to rest. She’d spent an excruciatingly boring day at camp, while he’d returned to the ship alone to pack up the training remotes and other odds and ends. Her only company had been Ro, who’d sat at the edge of camp all day, rumbling earnestly in her direction and getting on her nerves. They’d tumbled into bed again that night and Luke had proved that he knew how to do fantastic things with his tongue.

She’d never imagined that she’d end sleeping with Luke, but the night of her fall she discovered that she wanted him with an intensity that shocked her. She’d buried any inconvenient feelings for him deep, repressing any errant flicker of attraction. It was instinctual; an Emperor’s Hand couldn’t allow herself to want a connection like that. Seven years later, and she was still struggling to unlearn what the Emperor had molded her into. Sometimes she wondered if she’d ever entirely shake Palpatine’s ghost. She now had an idea as to why things had been so tense between her and Luke on Coruscant, though the reason never would have occurred to her at the time.

It wasn’t until her injury had left her vulnerable enough to admit what she’d kept hidden even from herself—no, something had shifted before that. When he’d unselfishly and unselfconsciously offered her consolation back in the children’s room on the _Chu'unthor_ he’d opened his mind and she’d caught a glimpse of his regard for her. He hadn’t wanted any of the witches, he’d wanted  _her_. She was staggered by the confidence of his desire.

Now that it had been let loose, it was hard to keep her hands off of him. She let her fingers run lazily down his arm, playing across the muscle. She reached into the bond to gauge his interest in picking up where they’d left off last night, and found his thoughts a conflicted tangle. Something was bothering him. She brushed inquiringly against his presence and felt him brace himself to address whatever it was that had him worked up.

“Were you dreaming again last night?” he said.

Wisps of the dream slipped through her memory; not a nightmare, but one wracked with anxiety. “Mmm, I think so.”

“I think I was there,” Luke said. She turned her head so she could see his face as he shifted up to lean on an elbow. “I think I went into your head while we were sleeping. I used our bond to enter your dreams. _In my sleep_.”

He was upset; it began to set her on edge. “What do you mean?” She sat up.

“I think the bond between us isn’t simply a training bond. The connection between us—it’s become deeper. Our minds are linked in ways that shouldn’t be possible with a training bond.”

Mara was beginning to understand his distress. “How did that happen?”

He chewed on his lip. It caught Mara’s eye, distracting in a way that wasn’t helping her focus on the situation. “I’m not sure. I guess I did something wrong when I constructed the bond.” He got an unfocused look on his face as he touched the Force. “It feels like the bond’s strengthened over the time we’ve been here on Dathomir. Neither of us been maintaining our mental barriers all that well,” he said ruefully. “And I think… becoming—intimate—didn’t help. Maybe that’s why there were restrictions against forming attachments in the old Jedi Order. So that this sort of thing didn’t happen.”

“Don’t tell me you honestly believe that no Jedi master ever kriffed their apprentice before.” The Jedi Order may have been restrictive and repressed, but they were also people, and in Mara’s experience, people let their libidos get them into stupid situations all the time.

Luke winced at her phrasing, then let the corner of his mouth twitch up in a crooked smile. “Yoda and I didn’t have that sort of relationship.”

Mara snorted at _that_ image. “So in short, you have no idea.”

“I’m sorry, Mara, I thought I knew what I was doing. There’s so much I don’t know about the Force!” His voice rose with his frustration and Mara found herself instinctively reaching out to soothe him through the bond. She drew back, twisting her lip when she realized what she was doing. She’d already become far too comfortable with having direct access to Luke’s head.

“We can still dissolve it though, right?” Even as she said the words, she felt a jolt shoot through her as though her danger sense had sprung to life, and felt it echo back through the bond. The very thought of breaking the link felt deeply unnatural. _Wrong._ She knew he felt it too.

“I—I don’t know,” he said.

“Let me get this straight—this bond could be permanent? You’ll always be in my head?”

“And you’ll be in mine,” he reminded her.

A visceral panic stirred within Mara, and she yanked on her end of the bond, frantically trying to free herself from his mind. She could sense the bond weaving them together, a tangle of connections that she couldn’t even begin to sort out. Her whole being shrieked in alarm as she tried to pull her mind away from his and she felt herself begin to hyperventilate.

“Mara, _Mara._ ” Luke caught her shoulders, and as always, the skin to skin contact just amplified their connection. She could feel his consternation too, as vividly as her own. To her horror, she felt the tendrils of connection between them strengthen, winding tighter together in response to her efforts to disentangle them. She was bound to him, _like she’d been bound to—_ Luke caught that thought and send a wave of reassurance and compassion, something Palpatine would never have done. He fell into a calming pattern and pulled her along into it. She felt herself steadying as together they worked to center themselves in the Force. Luke was not Palpatine, and would never bend her to his will.

After she’d managed  to compose herself, Luke said, “Let me try.” He took a breath, his eyes slipping closed as he submerged himself in the Force. She could feel him working at the bond, disentangling the connections between them with greater skill than she could manage. She felt them begin to loosen and give way.

 _No, no, no._ Sensing him retreating from her mind was _worse._  She panicked again. “Don’t! Don’t—go.” Barely conscious of how or what she was doing, she wound herself tighter into the bond, fusing her presence into his. His eyes snapped open and they stared at each other, wide-eyed. The bond was stronger than ever, her sense of it vibrating brightly between them—the power of the Force binding them together—permanently.

“Oh,” Luke said unsteadily. “It’s...beautiful.”

Mara only knew that it was a part of her now, that _he was a part of her_ , and that the bond between them was something she would defend to her death. She felt a surge of emotion rush back and forth between them, a jumble of wonder, affection, and fierce protectiveness. She could no longer comprehend where each thought or emotion originated. They were feeling _together_. As one.

She’d somehow ended up in his lap, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. He had a hand cradling the back of her head, tangled in her hair, his head tucked into the crook of her neck, lips pressed to the skin. She pulled back, both physically and mentally, finding it surprisingly easy to slip out of the meld and back into herself now that she wasn’t fighting the bond. She could still feel him connected to her—a vibrant and invulnerable link pulsing between them.

Luke lifted his other hand to cup her face as stared at her in unrestrained awe. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t hold back the smile that spread over her face. She didn’t need to with _him._ The feeling of connecting to the very core of another being reminded her of the day she’d first tapped into the Force on Dathomir: a rush of overwhelming exhilaration. She wasn’t alone now. She’d never be alone again.

He pulled her into his arms again, dropping back onto the ground until they were stretched out together on the bedroll, still clinging to each other. They lay there for a while, simply enjoying the touch of mind to mind.

Eventually, Mara spoke. “What happens now?”

“I don’t know. Believe me, I’ve never done this sort of thing with anyone else.”

“We do need to figure out some sort of shielding so we aren’t constantly broadcasting everything at each other.”

“I can do that,” he said. She felt him reach out across the bond again, and she gently rebuffed him.

She shook her head. “Not now.” She didn’t want to build barriers between them right now; she wanted something else instead. She dragged her lips across his neck and pulled him tighter to her, shifting so that she could rock her hips up against his.  

“But what about—” he began. She hooked a leg over his hip, grinding into his stiffening member. “You can’t use sex as a distraction every time—” he broke off when she sucked his earlobe into her mouth. His tone was irritated, but his body told her he was _very_ interested.

“Really?” she feigned surprise as she snaked her hand down the front of his sleep pants. “Should we stop?”

“No,” he groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. “Don’t stop.”

She chuckled. After a few strokes she released him to help him remove his pants and then pushed him onto his back, still careful with her left arm, though it was mostly healed now. He helped her slip the tunic she’d slept in over her head and tossed it aside, and she swung a leg over his waist and settled astride his abdomen. A soft smile crept across her face at the sight of him sprawled beneath her, all warm tanned skin and subtle muscle. She ran her hands across the expanse of skin, pleased at what she saw before her. Even though she was still discovering his body—figuring out what he enjoyed and what didn’t do much for him—the connection between their minds meant she could progress with confidence, sensing what gave him the most pleasure through the bond. She kissed down his torso, feeling his sparks of delight at the feel of her mouth and the brush of her loose hair. He slipped his hands into her hair, hesitantly at first, and then more confidently as she broadcasted her approval. She nipped at his side, smiling against his skin as a shudder ran up his body and he responded with a throaty moan.

He sat up, easing her back to onto his lap, his mouth going to her breast. Mara moaned as he gently tugged a nipple between his lips, the sensation shooting straight to her core. His hand reached down to stroke between her legs. She could sense him listening to the barely coherent thoughts tumbling through her head, _more, like that, there, yes there_ , _yes,_ and responding with his mouth and hands. Their mutual pleasure echoed back and forth through the bond, every touch heightened by their mental link.

She was panting by the time she pushed him onto his back again, he just as flushed and drunk with arousal as she was. She held his gaze as she sunk down on him, watching his eyes, dark with lust, widen, and his mouth fall open as she took him into her. They began to move, his hips rocking up against hers as she rode him; beginning slowly, as she savored the slide and press of their bodies moving together. Then he shifted, changing the angle slightly, thrusting up hard and hitting her _just right,_ and Mara swore, a long and extremely vulgar oath. Below her, Luke burst into laughter. “Where did you learn _that_ phrase?”

“Hutt space—” she said. His laughter had thrown off her rhythm and she frowned at him, rocking forward in an attempt to recreate that movement. “...is very educational.”  

He smiled happily up at her. “You never cease to surprise me, Mara Jade.”

She felt something lurch deep inside her at the open affection on his face, and she instinctively drew her presence back, retreating from the touch of his mind. He caught her, pulling her back into the open link that hummed between them. She slammed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the combined rush of visual, mental and physical stimulation. This is what she had _wanted_ —the meld of minds as their bodies came together—when she’d coaxed him into having sex. But it meant she had to accept his staggering trust and affection, to let it free within her, and to let him have access to the snarl of emotions that she held tightly inside her. _She could do this._ She let out a breath as she banished the panic that had crept up on her and opened her eyes again to the radiant smile that lit up his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before. He murmured her name, reaching up to hold her face between his hands.

She shivered as the fingers of his left hand trailed down her neck, ghosted across the scars on her chest, and then ran lightly over a breast and across her belly. They dipped further down to stroke gentle circles into her clit. She felt her arousal build again, washing warm through her. Pleasure rippled through them both as she began to rock into him again. It rose quickly, catching her by surprise as she reached her peak with a cry, dragging him after her.

After, they drifted, entwined together in a sated, sweaty tangle. Mara buried her face into his neck, smiling against his skin. _That_ had been an application of the bond that she could get used to. He lifted a hand, running his fingers lazily up and down her back.

As intoxicating as it was to lay about in bed, Mara never could stay idle for very long. She left the bedroll and rose to her knees, stretching. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching her with interest.

She smirked. " _Now_ he looks."

"If that's okay with you." Still the earnest farmboy.

"Of course it's okay with me,” Mara scoffed. “You’ve done more than _look_." _You’re in my head,_ she thought in his direction.

His smile took on a wicked edge as he swept his gaze over her nude body. "Well, if I have your permission, then." Mara felt a flash of heat that rippled across the bond.

“Not _again_ ,” she tossed one of his shirts at his head. “We have things to do.”

 

\- -

 

They made one last trip to the _Chu'unthor._ Luke insisted they keep to the places they’d already explored for safety’s sake, and though Mara would usually resent a tactic that felt too close to coddling for her taste, she did admit that he had a point. They spent the day collecting anything that Luke’s new academy might find useful. It was hard work packing up everything and hauling it up through the hole in the side of the ship and then down to the raft tied at the bottom of the wreck. As late afternoon crept up on them Luke called an end to the operation. Together they levitated the section of hull they’d removed back into place over the gap. And then it was done.

Mara sank down onto the hull of the ship and then flopped backward, her bended knees bracing her in place on the slanted surface. She stared up at the sky, exhaustion beginning to seep into her body. “When we get back to Coruscant, the first thing I’m going to do is take a long bath.”

Luke chuckled as he sat next to her. “I’ve got a tub in my apartment on Coruscant. Maybe...we could we share?”

“Mmm, that sounds nice.”

“Thank you for coming with me, Mara. It would have been a lot harder to do all this work on my own.”

Mara shrugged a shoulder. “Wouldn’t want all those baby apprentices to go without proper lightsabers.”

“It’s a start,” Luke ran a hand along the hull of the ship. “It’s hard to imagine a Jedi order so large and established that they have academies of this size scattered across the galaxy.”

Although they’d rebuilt their mental barriers in order to give themselves much needed privacy in their own heads, they’d both chosen to keep the link between them open and unshielded for the time being, and it was no effort at all for Mara to track the direction of his thoughts. He felt the weight of rebuilding the Jedi Order heavy on his shoulders. The responsibility of rectifying the loss of the Jedi Order was a legacy he never asked for, a task so monumental that some days it seemed impossible that he, a farm boy from an Outer Rim planet, could possibly manage to rebuild a sacred and ancient Order from scraps and dreams. But he had accepted that duty, and he wouldn’t give up on it now.

“Why not walk away?” Mara whispered, though she knew that abandoning a mission simply wasn’t in his nature, and she valued him all the more for it.

He looked down at her, his expression open and earnest, if tinged with regret. “There's a whole generation of lost Force users out there, beings who were never given the opportunity to develop their gifts. I have to do this for them.” He sighed, looking out over the expanse of the destroyed ship. “I'm sure I'll make mistakes along the way, but I have to try.” He shifted his gaze back to her in order to pin her with a pointed look. “I'll need someone to call me out on my mistakes."

"I do have practice there," Mara conceded with a small smile.

"Come with me, Mara. Come to Yavin."

“I need to think about it.” She stared up at the sky, not really seeing the clouds drifting across her line of vision, and let her misgivings drift to the front of her mind. Her mistrust of the Jedi Order was still buried deep, and it was probably tied to what Palpatine had done to her as well. She’d given her loyalty and dedicated her entire life to a cause that had betrayed her. At Luke’s encouraging nudge, she tried to put it into words. “It’s not easy...to dedicate myself to something like that again. I need...to be sure.” She was sure of _him,_ but she wasn’t so sure of the path he’d chosen. The Jedi order demanded dedication to its way of life and to the galaxy at large, and Mara knew that if she let it, that service could consume her. It had consumed others—“The Jedi produced Vader.”

It was a low blow, and Luke winced. “That’s not exactly fair.” It was obviously an argument he’d had many times before.

She turned her head in order to give him a long, hard look. He sighed. “I promise to do my best not to turn out any Sith lords.” They exchanged brittle smiles; in spite of his flippancy, neither of them was sure it was a promise that he could keep. “I have to do this,” he insisted. He turned back to gaze over the ruin of a ship that had once held hundreds of Jedi. “The old Jedi Order wasn't perfect and I don't approve of all of their methods, but this is our chance to build something _new,_ something that fits the universe as it is _now._ I see how they lived as a guide, not a rulebook, and I’m not opposed to taking what need from the old order and throwing out what doesn’t work.”

“Like what?”

"Okay, the no attachments rule. That's out."

Mara smirked. He’d certainly broken that rule, and in spectacular fashion (and repeatedly over the last few days). Even if he hadn’t inadvertently formed an unbreakable Force bond with her, she couldn’t imagine _Luke Skywalker_ denying himself attachments.

"I wouldn’t want to take children from their families either,” he continued. “I think I'd like to start training older apprentices first, rather than children. I still feel a responsibility to those beings that missed out on a chance to learn to use their Force skills. When we're more established, and have the facilities for families to settle on Yavin, we can start admitting children. I’m still hoping that we can convince a few Dathomir witches to join. Although it doesn’t look like I had any luck convincing them to let the clan men apply.”

"You tried, Luke," Mara said. "You can't change the whole order of things in a single visit."

"It's not enough. I know conditions aren't bad for men in the Singing Mountain Clan, but it still isn't right." He obviously had more on his mind. She gave him a gentle nudge through the Force. "My father and grandmother were slaves on Tatooine, and I suppose you could argue that Vader was a slave, from a certain point of view."

Mara felt cold. "You could say I was Palpatine's slave too, from a certain point of view."

He reached out and squeezed her hand. "That's why I take it personally."

She shook her head, dismissing her earlier statement. "I didn't have the same sort of relationship with him that Vader had. I saw him more as a foster parent." She winced. "Maybe that's worse."  

He sent gentle sympathy through the bond, and as sincere as it was, she struggled to accept it. There were things in her past that she could never rectify; ghosts that would always haunt her. But she knew that couldn’t let that define her, she had to keep moving forward; if she didn't she'd implode in on herself, and she would _never_ give Palpatine the satisfaction of that fate. Maybe the next step forward was to claim the birthright that had been denied to her; to become the Jedi that her former master would have despised.

Luke, skimming the edges of her mind, said softly: “What does the Force tell you?”

Mara pulled her hand away and stood. “The Force tells me that we should get back to camp.” It was beginning to get dark. “We have to start packing up if we want to leave tomorrow morning.”

 

\- -

 

Mara stood where the edge of the swamp lapped up against the high dry land where they had camped for the last few days. Across the water, the hulk of the _Chu'unthor_ cut through remains of the morning mist that was burning away as the sun began to heat up the landscape. She watched as a flock of small avian reptiles flitted through the mist. A breeze brushed gently against her shoulders, left bare by the sleeveless tunic she wore, and Luke brushed up against her mind, a similarly soothing touch that made the corner of her mouth turn up.

She felt him come up beside her to join her in staring out at the wreck where they’d spent days sorting through the last remains of a Jedi academy, a way of life that was now lost to the galaxy. Mara wasn’t sentimental. She didn’t hold any romantic feelings of nostalgia for those days, though she still felt a tug when she thought of the _waste_ of it all, of those lives ruined and knowledge lost.

Luke reached his hand out and Mara stared at it blankly for a moment—there was no one in sight, he didn't need to pretend right now—before realizing that he just wanted to hold her hand. She slid her hand into his, curling her fingers around his palm, and rolled her eyes at the look of delight that crossed his face. Behind them she could hear the rancors as they shifted restlessly, already loaded with their supplies and the crates of equipment they’d scavenged from the ship.

So much had changed in so short a time. The sense of restlessness that had plagued her on Coruscant had settled, and with it the simmering anger and anxiety she had directed toward Luke. She finally felt anchored—both by her newfound understanding of the Force and to…Luke. She had expected to feel the urge to crawl out of her skin every time his presence edged too close to the center of her, but instead, the intimacy of his mind had been a revelation.

“Luke?” He turned to look at her. “I don’t regret coming here with you. Not any of it.”

“You’re not angry about it anymore?”

She swung her head in his direction and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas about going behind my back again.”

“Mara, I wanted you to come because I just wanted you— _you_ —to be here with me. I asked Karrde because I knew you’d listen to him. I didn’t mean to make you feel manipulated.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I needed this. I needed to get away from the Smuggler’s Alliance and the fringe…”  

She let her voice trail off as she turned to look across the water again. Nothing had been what she had expected. Her training with the witches had been a gift that opened the Force to her in ways she’d never conceived, and she was struck with the knowledge that she couldn’t abandon that connection with the Force when she left Dathomir and returned to her life. She could understand, a little, Luke’s drive to share this understanding with the universe. And her connection to Luke...that was something else entirely. She felt full of emotions she hadn’t even begun to process—joy and wonder, tenderness and a fierce possessiveness. But when her mind turned to what that meant for the future, it stuttered to a stop. The thought of walking away from him was inconceivable, and the thought of leaving her job to commit her life to his Academy still wasn’t one she was willing to entertain. They’d figure out something, later...

Luke squeezed her hand. She could see his smile, open and generous, out of the corner of her eye. “Ready to go?”

Mara took one last look at the ruin of the Jedi ship.

“Yes.”

 

\- -

 

The sun was setting when they finally cleared the ridge that led down into the valley of the Singing Mountain Clan. The valley looked the same as it had when they’d left, but as Mara gazed across it, a note of discord ran across her mind. Luke stiffened behind her as he felt it too. “There’s something wrong…”

They hurried the rancors down into the valley with increasing urgency. As they neared the fortress, they could feel a disquieting sense of turmoil emanating from the Clan. Kirana Ti came out to meet them and deliver the bad news. “A Nightsister snuck into the village and stole Shen’s daughter Aya. She’s only a baby. We don’t know how the Nightsister got past our defenses or where she’s gone, but the witches are preparing to hunt her down.”

Mara felt a stab of icy rage cut through her at the thought of any dark sider getting their hands on a _child._ Luke, responding to the emotion, squeezed her hand and send a reassuring pulse through the bond. She mentally shook herself—she probably took the kidnapping of Force-sensitive children too personally; it wasn’t like she had children of her own, or even any interest in children at all.

There was no question that the two of them would be joining the hunt. “How did she escape the Battle of Dathomir?” Luke asked as Kirana Ti led them deep into the fortress.

“We don’t know,” Kirana Ti said. “We haven’t been able to discover her identity yet, but she’s probably a rogue Nightsister who never pledged herself to Gethzerion.”

The entrance to the fortress’s war room was hung with a magnificent tapestry of a witch holding a spear, another masterful example of the work of clan’s artisans, indicating a threshold through which only warriors were allowed to pass. It was a massive space, lined with weapons: handcrafted Dathomirian spears and pikes, Hapan blasters, and even Imperial cannons. The room was crowded with every warrior in the clan, each wearing full Dathoririan armor, their war helms glistening in the light.

Sand had been piled into the center of the room, and a witch stood at one end, singing a spell of great power. Mara could feel her pulling deep into the Force. The sand shifted before the spellcaster, forming into the shapes of mountains, plateaus, and valleys, a topographical map of the surrounding country. Mara spotted a perfect replica of the fortress and the surrounding village in the center of Force-forged map. The large bowl of the Singing Mountain Clan’s valley was surrounded by dozens of smaller valleys and crevasses, each a potential hiding place for a fugitive who was familiar with the Clan’s territory or was determined enough to scale the cliffs around the valley.  

“The Nightsister has woven a powerful shielding spell,” Mother Augwynne said. “The elders have been chanting all day long and we still haven’t been able to track her.”

“Her strength comes from her desperation,” Damaya explained. “She may not be able to hold out for much longer, but even a desperate Nightsister is still a vicious enemy.”

“It’s been decided that the witches will break into groups in order to search every surrounding valley,” Mother Augwynne announced to the assembled witches. “We must bring Sister Shen’s daughter home safely.”

Luke leaned in to murmur in Mara’s ear: “At this point, Han would say something about how you should _never_ split up.”

"Why not? There's a lot of ground to cover. It's a logical division of labor."

He gave her an amused look which she ignored. Damaya paired them with Kirana Ti, using the sand map to point out the small valley they would be assigned to search, before moving on the give instructions to the next team of witches. When every witch in the clan had sorted into teams and debriefed, the warriors headed down to the open courtyard in front of the fortress.

They could cover ground much faster on rancor back than the Nightsister had done on foot, and the witches were hopeful that they could catch up with her. While the war council had been taking place the rancor trainers had been preparing their beasts, strapping on saddles and the fearsome armor the creatures wore in battle, great plates of metal and heavy tooled leather. Tosh had already been dressed in her battle armor, and Mara heaved herself up into the saddle with a practiced ease and familiarity she’d gained during the trip to the _Chu'unthor._ Luke took his usual seat behind her. He turned her towards him, cupping her face and kissing her.

“What was that for?”

He smiled at her. “For luck.”

Damaya made an undulating call, which was met by the roar of rancors and war cries of the witches. The rancors sprung forward, the teams breaking off to leave the valley on their assigned routes. Kirana Ti rode Tosh’s son Tika, who had joined them on the _Chu'unthor_ expedition, and under her command, he led them away from the fortress and on a path out of the valley and into the mountains. The rancors knew the way, climbing dexterously along a rock face that would have taken a human much longer to navigate. They scaled down a steep cliff and dropped down into a small, densely wooded valley, illuminated by the light of Dathomir’s first moon. As soon as the rancors began to move into the trees, Mara felt the brush of a dark presence. She felt Luke stiffen behind her and met Kirana Ti’s eyes. The Nightsister was here, hidden somewhere in the valley before them.

“Should we turn back?” she called over the heads of the rancors.

Kirana Ti considered, and then shook her head. “Turning back will take too much time. Three spellcasters and two rancors should be enough against a single Nightsister.” With a child in the hands of a dark sider, they didn’t have the time to circle back and recall the witches that had already set out on their own hunts. Kirana Ti sent a spell-message back to the fortress, and they continued on.

It soon became apparent why the Nightsister had chosen this particular valley. Tall, heavy trees that grew close together and dense underbrush prevented the rancors from traveling any further into the woods. Tosh roared with frustration, tearing up a sapling and slamming her body against a large tree that shuddered but stood against her onslaught. There was nothing for it but to leave the rancors behind and travel on foot. Mara and Luke took the lead, using their lightsabers to cut through the heavy foliage. They could hear the rancors’ angry bellows fading behind them as the creatures continued to tear at the trees, still searching for a way through the forest that would accommodate their bulk.

The trees began to thin again as they made their way deeper into the valley, and after a time they could travel easily through the terrain, the green and blue glow of their lightsabers lighting the way. A thick, unnatural fog boiled out of the ground as they worked their way slowly through the woods.

“A night spell,” Kirana Ti said. “To keep us from finding her.”

The fog grew thicker as they continued forward, and soon it was hard to make out what was in front of them, the trees around them becoming no more than vague shapes. Kirana Ti took a turn and vanished from sight. One moment Luke was by her side, and the next he’d disappeared into the dense fog. Mara bit back an irritated oath. She spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the green light of his saber. Nothing. Now they were all stumbling around blindly, left to their own defenses. A creative Huttese curse rattled around in Mara’s head as she worked her way through the gloom. It was _stupid_ to let the Nightsister’s spell separate them like that.

It was then that a loud crack sounded through the forest, a distinctive sound that made a shudder run up Mara’s spine. Force lighting. Someone had discovered the Nightsister, and she was fighting back, but it was hard to pinpoint a source of the sound in the thick Force-fog. With a sickening lurch in her chest, Mara felt Luke’s presence go dark in her head. She froze and nearly cried out, before catching hold of her panic and the white hot flash of anger that burned through her. She couldn’t let her anger and fear cloud her judgment and direct her actions in the Force. Both the Jedi and the witches’ Book of Law were very clear about that. Kirana Ti had told her a witch’s emotion worked in tandem with a witch’s power, and negative emotions could corrupt and twist a spell into dark magic. Fear wouldn’t help her, and her anger would only be useful if she could control it; subvert it to her own purpose. She let that anger burn quietly within her, a deep note that hummed in her Force presence without distracting or overpowering her.

Mara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Luke wasn’t dead, she could tell that much through the bond, but she knew that wherever he was, he wasn’t conscious anymore. She concentrated on the bond, reaching out and finding Luke through their connection in the Force. She began to move toward his presence, letting the link guide her. She kept her eyes closed, and let go of her other senses—her fear and anger set to the side—let the Force lead her steps.

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself standing at the edge of a small clearing illuminated by the moonlight, where the fog only hovered around the edges, clinging to the surrounding forest. Luke lay sprawled on the ground on the far side of the clearing, the Nightsister crouched over his unconscious body. Her head whipped around as Mara stepped into the clearing.

At first, Mara guessed that the Nightsister was about fifteen years older than herself, but after a closer look at the woman’s face and she wasn’t so sure. It was the look of someone who had lived hard, eaten from the inside by the corruption of the dark side. It was a look Mara knew well. Dark bruises, the distinctive trademark of a Dathomiri dark sider, discolored the woman’s face and spread down her neck and chest.

“Jai!” the woman hissed.

“Nightsister.”

“Did you come for this abomination—a male spellcaster?”

“Yes. He’s _mine.”_ He was hers by the law of Dathomir, and she would let _no one_ claim him. “And I came for the child. Will you relinquish them?”

The woman spat a Dathomiri curse at Mara. “I will never surrender to a filthy offworlder!” She drew herself up, stepping a few paces forward to situate herself between Luke and Mara.

“Well, that makes this simpler,” Mara said, raising her lightsaber.

The Nightsister began to chant in Dathomiri, a dark spell that Mara couldn’t interpret, though she could feel the ripples in the Force around her as the air began to shift under the Nightsister’s command. Mara let her eyelids sink low like a Dathomiri witch, a hum building in the back of her throat. She might not know the exact words to the witches’ spells, but she could harness the Force in the same manner and she could sense the pattern of the Nightsister’s spell, how the rhythm of the song channeled the Force.

Mara’s first attempt to cross the clearing was met with heavy gusts of wind that blasted a shower of gravel in Mara’s direction. Mara threw up her arm to shield her face, the debris hitting the sleeve of her jacket and biting into any exposed skin. The Nightsister had made a mistake with her first move—windcasting was something that Kirana Ti had trained Mara to do. Mara let the song build in her and turned back the wind as Kirana Ti had taught her, the gust whipping back toward the other woman. The Nightsister screamed in frustration at Mara’s subversion of her spell, and let the wind die.

Before Mara could get any closer the Nightsister threw up a hand and Force lightning leapt from her fingertips. It didn’t have the power that C’baoth had wielded, let alone the Emperor, but it still burned across the clearing with deadly force, and Mara staggered as the lightning met her lightsaber with a loud electric clash, the distinctive sulfuric smell stinging Mara’s nose. The next burst of lightning crackled by her in a searing arc that went wide and hit a nearby tree, the branches exploding in a shower of sparks. That strike had been wildly uncontrolled. Not a good sign. The attack was brief and the Nightsister gasped for air, clearly winded by the effort of drawing on that amount of dark power. She could draw on the power of the dark side, but she didn’t have the fine control of a master, which made her more unpredictable and liable to cause unchecked destruction. Mara knew that she could outlast the woman, but the Nightsister was still too close to Luke, and Mara wasn’t sure the witch wouldn’t turn on him in a moment of desperation. He still wasn’t moving and Mara still wasn’t close enough to reach the Nightsister with her lightsaber.

The dark side witch had already begun a new chant, one that made the hairs stand up on the back of Mara’s neck. She listened carefully to the song, letting the rhythm of the spell tell her what her next move would be. When the Nightsister raised up her arms, Mara threw herself to the ground as a shockwave erupted from the witch and tore through the clearing, rushing over Mara’s head and crashing through the surrounding trees. Though it had mostly passed above her, Mara still felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her and struggled to catch her breath.

There was an answering sound of something large crashing through forest and Tika burst into the clearing with a roar that made Mara clap her hands over her ears. He’d somehow found a way through the trees. Mara hadn’t even managed to pull herself up off the ground before Tika was charging the Nightsister. The women sent a blast of lightning at the young rancor, who howled in pain and fell back as the bolts of energy struck him, sizzling across his thick hide.

“Don’t you dare,” Mara snarled as she sprung to her feet and leapt between the Nightsister and the rancor.

The Force song that ran through Mara’s head shifted, a pure note ringing out, and she threw up her hand before she’d even fully realized what she was doing. The lightning hit her palm with a bright golden flash and converged into a sphere of pure light. The energy flowed through Mara and back into the Force. She stared, dumbfounded, at her tingling fingers, her shock mirrored in the Nightsister’s face. She hadn’t known that was even _possible_.

The Nightsister’s face twisted in horror and rage and she struck wildly at Mara. This time Mara simply ducked under the uncoordinated burst of dark power. There was her opening—the brief moment before the Nightsister could draw forth the next lightning strike. Mara threw her lightsaber toward the witch, using a Jedi’s skill to guide the blade right into the heart of the Nightsister. The dark witch fell, lightning still crackling around her hands as her body hit the forest floor.

It was over.

Mara turned to where Tika was huddled, keening, to determine how badly the creature had been hurt by the Nightsister’s lightning. He lifted his head and let out a whistling whimper as Mara placed her hand on his heaving flank. The beast was in pain, but he wasn’t badly injured. “Your mother will be here soon,” Mara said. “Hang in there.” The rancor couldn’t understand her words, but he settled down, still sniffling pitifully.

She could cross the cleaning unhindered now. She stepped around the Nightsister, smoke still rising from the corpse, retrieving her lightsaber as she passed. Luke still lay sprawled on the ground, and a tight feeling rose in her throat as she looked into his face, pale and vacant. Crouching down beside him, she laid a hand on his chest, using their bond to reach out to him. His presence in the Force was sunk deep within him, almost as though he was in a trance or coma. A spell, Mara realized. She concentrated until she could sense the configuration of the spell, humming to herself as she unwound it. As the Nightsister’s spell slowly dissipated she felt his mind come alive again, his brilliant presence flowing into the bond. Relief washed through her like a wave and she pressed her lips against his. He gasped and jerked awake and halfway into a sitting position, cursing under his breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Mara soothed.

Luke twisted away from her and vomited onto the ground. She patted his back as his body heaved with the effort of catching his breath. He turned back around, color beginning to return to his sickly pallor. “Did you—”

“I took care of her.”

He gave her a shaky nod, and then lifted his hand—the artificial one—and examined it, a tight expression on his face. The fingers twitched in a stiff, unnatural motion. “I think her blast—” he began, his voice rough. “The lightning—it went wild—I think it damaged the machinery and killed one of the power cells. It's gone numb like it did on Myrkr."

“We can fix it,” Mara said. “Let’s get out of here first.” She examined him for any further damage, thinking wryly that he’d done the same for her only days ago. He seemed unsteady but not seriously injured, except for the hand, which was barely functional.

“Mara! Luke!” Kirana Ti’s voice cut through the forest.

“Over here!” Mara called. There was the sound of branches and undergrowth crashing and giving way as Tosh burst into the clearing, followed by Kirana Ti. The rancor lumbered over to Tika, crooning over her injured offspring.

“Did you find Aya?” Kirana Ti asked.

“No, but I took care of the Nightsister,” Mara nodded toward crumpled remains of the dark sider as she helped Luke stand.

“She must have a camp nearby if she didn’t have the baby with her,” Kirana Ti said. She stalked over to where the Nightsister lay, the ground blistered and cracked around the body. “Yana So,” she identified the Nightsister. “Azbeth’s half-sister, who broke the law of the Book eight years ago.” She chanted a curse in old Dathomiri over the body, concluding with: “May she be fed upon by wild Drebbin and may her spirit rot in the sun.”

She looked Luke over and concluded that there wouldn’t be any lasting effects from the Nightsister’s spell. “I _feel_ awful.” He wavered slightly on his feet. Mara steadied him. “But I’ll be okay,” he said, touching the hand she had on his shoulder reassuringly.  

“A nasty spell,” Kirana Ti said with a wince. “Sister Tannath will have a potion that will help.” She had less sympathy for Tika, who was grumbling as Tosh pushed him to his feet. “That’s how the Nightsisters fight, little giant. Better get used to it.”

Kirana Ti was right, and they found the camp not far off, a small baby wrapped in a blanket beside a hastily kicked out firepit. Kirana Ti picked up the child and determined she was under a harmless sleep spell and decided that wait for the girl’s mother to undo the Nightsister’s work when they arrived back at the fortress.

“I don’t mind carrying her back,” Kirana Ti smiled at the sleeping baby in her arms. "She reminds me of my daughter."

"You have a daughter?" She’d never mentioned her daughter to Mara before.

"Oh, yes. I doted on her when she was an infant. Now she's being raised by the clan sisters, like all children are."

It was such a far cry from her solitary childhood that Mara had trouble imagining it. She’d been raised by a string of strict caretakers and trainers, who had shown her little affection and trained her not to expect it. It had never even occurred to her to be lonely at the time.

"I'll miss her when I go to the Jedi Academy." Kirana Ti looked up, an almost shy expression on her face, unlike any Mara had seen on a Dathomir witch. "If you'll accept me."

"We'd be honored to have you join us," Luke said. “If you don’t mind learning from a man.”

“It will be strange,” Kirana Ti admitted. “But I think I can handle it. Daymara's interested too, you know, it's just not a good time for her right now. I think she'll be willing to leave Dathomir in a couple of years when she has fewer obligations to the Guard."   

“Mother Augwynne won’t mind you leaving Dathomir?” Mara asked.

“Of course not. Why do you think she invited you here? She often speaks about sending children out of the valley to learn new skills to benefit the clan. She’s pleased that you want to teach witches in the ways of the Jedi.”

“And your husband?” Luke asked.

Kirana Ti made a dismissive motion. “He’s a Dathomiri man. He knows his duty is to be patient and tend the home when his woman goes off to war.”

Luke gave Mara a look that she couldn’t quite read. She sent an inquiry through the bond, but he shook his head. _Later_. He looked exhausted, and Mara realized how tired she was as well.

“Come on,” she put a supporting arm around his waist so that he could lean into her as they walked, and nodded at Kirana Ti. “Let’s take her home.”


	5. Home is Where the Heart Is

Luke couldn’t think of a better way to start their last morning on Dathomir than lounging around in bed with Mara. She lay half draped on top of him, her fingers idly tracing the faint network of scars left from Palpatine's force lightning. From this angle, her body pressed to his, he couldn’t see the matching set she wore courtesy of C'baoth.

The rest of the night following the encounter with the Nightsister had been a miserable blur. The rancors traveled slowly and painstakingly back to the fortress, mindful of their injured and the baby in Kirana Ti’s arms. He had drifted off at one point, his head against the back of Kirana Ti’s shoulder and Mara’s arms snug around his waist, holding him in place on Tosh’s back. The relief and gratitude of the Clan members that had rushed out to greet them had been palpable, and, in his groggy state, a little overwhelming. Even though he could feel her own exhaustion setting in as the adrenaline drained away, Mara had taken charge, arranging for the Clan’s healers to attend to him and whisking him off to their room so that he could sleep off the Nightsister’s spell.

This time it had been Mara who insisted on the healing trance and a day of rest, and he was left alone for a day to recover as she went about the business of loading and prepping the ship. As the day stretched tediously on, it did cross his mind that she was getting him back for doing the same to her in the aftermath of her fall on the _Chu'unthor_. She only returned to bring him meals and coax him back into sleep.

It wasn’t until he’d woken this morning that she’d allowed him to thank her properly—and enthusiastically—for her rescue. Now she radiated a sated satisfaction as she sprawled alongside him. The fingers that had been along the scars on his chest changed course, trailing up his neck and along his jawline. She shifted, bringing her chin up to rest on his chest as she looked at his face, a tiny crease appearing between her eyebrows as she considered him. Her fingers lifted to ghost across the deep scars on his cheeks. "You know, you've never told me how you got these."

"Wampa attack."

She shook her head, not recognizing the species.

"Wampas are large, aggressive animals that live on Hoth. Big claws."

"How did it happen?"

"It snuck up on me."

Her laugh, low and intimate, made tingles run up and down his spine. " _Shavit_ , Farmboy, do you have no danger sense at all?"

"I didn't have any training then!" he said. Her raised eyebrow suggested that she didn't think things had changed much since then. "Hmmph."

Her hand ranged down his neck and over his right shoulder, then down the arm, where she stopped, a frown forming on her face. She levered herself up so that she could look down at the limb he’d tucked along his side. “We should get that fixed.”

He made a soft sound of disappointment as she rose, even though he did want to get the hand fixed as soon as possible. He watched as she braided her hair back with quick efficiency and pulled on underwear and an oversized shirt—his, he noted with interest—before retrieving something she’d placed on top of one of the chests. "I found this last night." She held up a small medical-grade power cell, Hapan-made but still compatible with a New Republic prosthetic. "Teneniel Djo sent medical supplies from Hapes, but the sisters won't touch them. Apparently, they prefer to use spells or potions."

She picked out a few tools from the pile that he'd been using to tinker with on days when he was left to his own devices. Sitting cross-legged on the pallet, she placed the power cell and tools beside her and motioned for him to sit in front of her. He pulled on a pair of sleep pants and settled across from her, holding out his right hand for inspection. The limb was still numb, and the machinery wasn't responding properly, sluggish to react to the signals his brain sent. It wasn't painful, just a disturbing reminder of what he'd lost and the fact that he had to rely on a machine to function.

"I can sense the shape of it in the Force, but there's no feeling below the arm." He didn't mention that the sensory input he got from his mechanical hand was always different from that of a real hand. It was muted, less sensitive. Touching things never _felt_ quite right. He was used to it now—he barely even noticed—but it had been hard to accept at first.

"The skin isn't warm anymore," Mara said, running her fingers over the synthflesh. "It's disconcerting." He sensed that she was more bothered by it than she let on. He'd never gotten the impression that his prosthetic bothered her before, but there was something about the malfunctioning limb not quite registering as living flesh that was disturbing. He knew exactly how she felt. As lifelike as it looked, it synthflesh didn't hold calluses or scars the way his real hand did. It was stronger than his other hand and more impervious to harm. Usually.

She had a strange expression on her face as she gazed down at his hand. He gave her a mental nudge. "Vader...threatened me," she said. "But he never did anything like this." She ran a finger across the silver scar where skin met synthflesh.  

"Vader threatened you?"

She shrugged. "A few times. I got the sense that he resented me, but that it wasn't personal. We were all jealous for scraps of Palpatine's attention."

A memory flickered at the edge of her mind, and Luke reached out, unfurling it. It was the image of Vader, saber lit, bearing down on Mara like a whirlwind of rage before everything went dark.

She was a little chagrined at the memory. "My fault for not treading lightly."  

"Did he ever hurt you?"

She looked at him like the answer was obvious. "Yes. But nothing like this," she insisted, touching his hand.

He was stricken by her matter-of-fact response, which spoke volumes about the environment in which she’d been raised. _His father_ had terrorized a teenage girl out of spite and jealousy, and she had accepted it as simply the way things were. Luke couldn't imagine such unspeakably cruel life. "I'm sorry,” he said, anguished. The look she shot him was almost quizzical and he realized that she didn't understand why he was so upset. “You should never have had to live like that.”

"Don't pity me, Skywalker," she said softly, avoiding his eye. "Pity the people we destroyed along the way."

She tapped his hand, bringing his attention back to fixing the prosthetic. He showed her how to open the device, pulling back the lifelike synthflesh to reveal the machine underneath. She carefully lifted the access panel and peered into the open gap. "The power cell's definitely dead, and it looks like a few things were rattled loose in there. I can readjust it." She selected a few tools from the pile and set to work, as he tried to keep his arm steady for her. Even though he couldn't feel it, it was still bizarre watching someone dig around inside a rectangular hole in his arm.

There was a catch she had to activate while disengaging the wires connected to the power cell, and her process was as methodical and precise as she always was. He wasn’t always so careful when doing his own repairs. The catch snapped open and Mara stuck the smaller tool in her mouth as she carefully lifted the damaged power cell free. She set it aside and returned her attention to the open panel. As she bent her head over his hand, a lock of hair came loose from its braid and fell into her face. He used his other hand to slip the strands behind her ear, his finger running along the delicate curve. He felt a shiver through the bond as her body responded to his touch, but as usual, she didn't let it show on her face.

"Thanks," she muttered around the tool in her mouth. He let his left hand fall to her bare knee and stroked his thumb across the skin as she continued to work.

Now that the powercell had been removed, she concentrated on repairing the connections that had broken loose when the hand had suffered a direct hit. "Sithspit," she growled. She took the tool out of her mouth and glared intently into the opening. "There's a wire..." She leaned back a little and closed her eyes, drawing on the Force to reach deep into the mechanism where no tool would fit and realign the wires. He was tempted to reach into the Force and help her with the task, but he held himself back and watched her work. After a minute she opened her eyes and peered back into the gap. "That's better."  

She lifted the Hapan power cell and carefully slotted it into place. As soon as the connection was activated Luke felt the whole hand go alive again as the artificial nerves came back online, like his hand had blinked back into existence. He could feel Mara’s fingers, steady around his wrist as she sealed the access panel with her other hand.

“Is everything working now?”

He wiggled his fingers. “Yes. _Thank you._ ”

She pinched the synthflesh. "Can you feel that?"

"Yeah. It feels like it normally does."

"And this?" She ran a finger down his arm, across the scar that bisected the limb and down into his palm. He nodded. Her fingers stroked lightly across his palm. It caused a much different sensation than she was going for, a jolt of feeling that ran straight down to his cock. He knew she could sense his reaction though the bond, though she didn’t let it show on her face. He managed a vaguely positive sound.

"Hmm," Mara said. "I can think of another test for sensitivity." Her eyes flicked up to his, and then she ducked her head down and sucked his index finger into her mouth. The air left his lungs in a whoosh. She straightened up, her eyes sparkling. "How did that feel?"

"Good," he managed to croak. She smirked. In return, he gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. "I think we should do more tests."

"Oh, really?" She climbed into his lap, her knees bracketing his hips. She nipped at his lower lip, pulling back with a wicked smile. He knew with a certainty that no one else in the galaxy had ever seen Mara Jade's gentle, playful side before—without her usual sardonic shield—and he was touched that she choose to share it with him.

He slid his right hand under her shirt and up to her breast, gently brushing the nipple with his fingers. The limited sensitivity of the prosthetic meant that he didn't get quite as much from the gesture as he would with his other hand, but the shiver and her tiny breathy moan made it all worth it.

“More,” she murmured against his mouth as she leaned in to kiss him, sloppy and hard, wrapping her arms around his neck. He ran his other hand up her side, bunching up her shirt until she twisted away enough to remove it, revealing all that gorgeous creamy skin. As his hands ranged across her body he couldn’t help but wonder at the fact that they were here, together, doing  _this;_ that Mara would allow him to even touch her. The slide of skin against skin heightened the connection between them; he gasped at the intoxicating rush as she wrapped her presence around his.

He attempted to roll her onto her back, but Mara had other ideas, and a playful tussle ensued. He briefly managed to pin her beneath him—his hands curling around her wrists and a leg pinning hers—before she slipped a hand free and wriggled it under his pants to cup his cock. He let out a garbled sound, halfway between protest and encouragement.

“I don’t play fair,” she reminded him, the retort coming out more breathless than teasing as he resorted to his own distraction, sucking a nipple into his mouth. He let her other hand slip free and she carded it through his hair, making soft sounds as he worked his mouth across her breast and up her throat. She opened her mouth at the brush of his lips, her tongue flicking out to meet his, her kisses warm and wet and greedy. Her thoughts tumbled against his through the open space of the bond, and he sensed her intention only seconds before her hand moved again, this time taking firm hold of his cock, causing him to stutter to a halt, his hips jerking forward. She let out a breathy laugh as she gained the upper hand again. She kept her strokes light and teasing, and he chased the promise of friction with his hips.

“Tease,” he grunted and twisted out of her reach. He managed to scoop an arm around her and flipped her over, and her Force sense hummed with approval as she shifted up onto her hands and knees and rocked back against him. He scattered kisses across her back, delighting in the sparks of sensation that flowed across the bond. They were still wearing too many clothes for them to proceed any further, so Mara rolled away to remove her underwear and he pulled his sleeping pants off as quickly as possible. She’d already positioned herself back on her knees again, throwing an impatient look over her shoulder. He  _felt_ more than heard her quick intake of air as he pushed into her, every nerve singing as their combined arousal vibrated through the bond. He picked up the pace, hips driving into her, and she melted down onto her forearms with a low moan.

He could sense Mara weaving through the bond, doing—something—it was hard to concentrate with the tight heat of her around him—but on the next thrust, he could feel the pleasure that shot up his back rush through them _simultaneously_. Oh, _Force,_ how was she doing that? Instead of an echo of sensation from the other person, pleasure bust through both of them at the same time, mirrored and magnified. He tried to hold on, his fingers digging into her hips, but found himself spiraling quickly toward his climax, their combined pleasure coursing through him with a staggering intensity. Mara shuddered below him, adding her cries to his shout as he came, her thoughts streaming across the link in a barely coherent jumble of _ohyesohkriffkrifffuck_ —

They flopped onto the pallet in a pile of shaky limbs. Mara made a disgruntled sound as he twisted around, pulling his weight off of her and tangling his arms around her. “You’re incredible,” he muttered, as he buried his face into the damp, warm skin of her neck. Her chuckle was still a little breathless.

Eventually, they slid out of the shared meld of the bond and back into their own heads, and Mara reminded him that they needed to clean up and pack if they still planned to leave that afternoon. Luke dressed in a casual outfit for travel, packing up the rest of his clothes and any odds and ends that had been scattered across the room as Mara used the fresher and dressed. When he turned to look at her he felt his mouth gape open. She was wearing the glittering green lizard skin dress she’d worn to the dance.

“Close your mouth, Skywalker,” she smirked at him. He snapped it shut with a click and smiled admiringly at her. She gave a soft huff and looked away, though he could feel her quiet pleasure at the compliment.

Picking up a beautifully carved bone hair stick one of the sisters had given her, she paused, as though she’d just thought of something. “A gift from Shen, for rescuing her daughter,” she told him absently as she ran her fingers over the lines of the carving, her mind clearly occupied elsewhere. Whatever she’d thought of, she wasn’t sharing it through their mental link. She still instinctively drew away from him more often than he’d like. Luke leaned into the bond, picking up something unsettled about her mood. Not able to discern its cause, he tried to slide into her thoughts.

Her head shot up. “Stop that!” she snapped, her eyes flashing.

“Sorry!” He let her feel his deep mortification for crossing a line, and she sent back an emotion he took for embarrassment at her own overreaction. “It’s just—I can’t help if you shield from me. We’re in this together, Mara.”

“No, it’s fine, I want to talk about it, but this—” she gestured between them. “I’m still getting used to it. Having someone else in my head all the time, it’s...”

“It’ll take some time,” he said. “Getting comfortable with each other’s boundaries.“

“You can just _ask,_ ” she said. He gave her an inquiring Force-nudge and her lips thinned in exasperation. “Not like that. You know what I mean.”

“What’s bothering you, Mara?”

She inhaled, her eyes falling back on the hair stick, though he knew she wasn’t seeing the object itself. “When I faced the Nightsister, she threw Force lightning at Tika, and...I _caught_ it. In my bare hand.” This time she offered the memory across the bond and the scene flickered through his mind. He felt the moment in which she let the power of the lightning flow through her. It was a stunning use of the Force; a technique he wasn’t sure he could even replicate.

“I just acted on instinct...” She stared down at her hand, flexing her fingers.

“It was the Force, directing your actions.”

“I _know_ , but I don’t know _how_ I did it,” she said, a touch of irritation in her voice. “I don’t have that kind of power.”

“You do, Mara,” he said. “It’s just a matter of training.” She nodded, in acknowledgment, if not agreement. “You’ve done it before, and I think with some practice, you could figure out how to do it again.” He ran a finger along the outside of her hand. “Perhaps once you’ve mastered the technique you could teach it.”

She gave him another exasperated look as she pulled her hand away and twisted her hair up into a low bun, pinning it in place with the stick. “Sometimes that Skywalker tenacity _isn’t_ attractive.”

“Sometimes?” He pulled her into his arms. “And sometimes it is?”

She made a noncommittal hum and he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. She wasn’t wearing a bra, he realized with a smirk. He ran his mouth up her neck and kissed behind her ear, causing her to shiver and shimmy closer to him. He was determined to give her all the affection she’d been denied for so long. He soaked in her luminous presence in the Force, marveling in the touch of her mind. For the rest of his life, Luke would never tire of watching that shifting play of emotions, and _that_ was a thought that brought him up cold, the fears that lurked at the edge of his mind creeping to the forefront. Their bond would tie them together for a lifetime—but what if that wasn’t enough? What if their relationship failed? Would she grow to resent his presence in her head?

“You’re thinking very loudly,” she murmured.  

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“I know,” she sighed, and he felt her echo back the same worries, his fears mirrored in her mind. “ _You’re_ supposed to be the optimistic one. We’ll just have to figure it out as we go along.”

That was the only option they had, a sobering thought. “It’s not going to be easy.”

He felt her smile into his shoulder, her response muffled: “When have either of us ever backed down from a challenge?”

Luke didn’t know what the future or the Force had in mind for them, but he did know one thing: “I’m so happy it’s you, Mara.” She held him tighter, and he sensed a fierce possessiveness shoot through the jumble of affection and tenderness she felt for him. There was still a part of him that thought of himself as a simple farm boy, who couldn’t believe that a woman as incredible as Mara Jade returned his affections.

In that quiet moment, he hated to bring it up, but they couldn’t put off the discussion forever. “Have you made your decision?”

“Yes.” She eased back so that she could look him in the eye. “I’m not giving up my job to join the Academy.” She placed a hand on his chest to stop his protest. “I’ll be there when you open. I’ll make sure everything’s running smoothly before I go. But I still have obligations. I’ll just have to make time for Yavin on my schedule. I’ll work part time for Karrde, part time for the Praxeum.”

Working as Karrde’s second in command wasn’t her only obligation. “What about the Smuggler’s Alliance?”

“I’m going to resign my position on the Smuggler’s Alliance.” At his look of surprise, she explained with a shrug, “That was always Karrde’s baby, not mine. He can find someone else to deal with NR bureaucrats now.”

“And Karrde—?”

“Will get have to get used to it,” she gave him a wry smile. “Having a trained Jedi on his payroll will soften the blow, no doubt.”  

He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of a long distance relationship, but he recognized that it was a big step for her even to make that sort of concession. He’d have to make allowances too. He’d have to accept her splitting her time between her commitments, the Academy, and himself, even though there was a part of him that desperately wanted to keep her all to himself; to have her sole attention as he had during their expedition to the _Chu'unthor_. But it wasn’t a realistic dream.

His lip twisted up into a wry smile. “I guess I’ll have to be like the faithful Dathomiri husband, waiting for his wife to return from her travels.” It really _wasn’t_ what he had expected to take from their visit.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wife?”

“We’re married, remember?”

She smacked him lightly on the arm. “Ow,” he whined.

“I’m not entirely convinced Teneniel wasn’t pulling your leg,” she said.

“Well—oh—huh.” It did sound like something Teneniel would do.

Mara rolled her eyes. “I think I have a few things to say to the Queen Mother when we get back to civilization.”

Luke grinned at the thought of Mara and Teneniel together. “You’d like her.”

“I like her sisters.”

“Hopefully we’ll be able to convince a few of them to join us.”

“About that—” Mara said. “I’ve been talking with Mother Augwynne and the rest of the sisters. Kirana Ti will be leaving with us today, but the rest of the Clan has voted to wait. There are witches that are definitely interested—Damaya and a few others—but they want to wait and see once the Order’s established itself.” She hesitated before dropping the last bit of bad news: “None of the men came forward at all.”

Luke nodded. It was a disappointing result, but maybe, over time… Anyway, he was happy to have Kirana Ti join the first group of apprentices.

“I’ve also made arrangements with Mother Augwynne,” Mara continued. “For the Clan to contribute supplies for the first couple of years—I’ve contracted them to provide produce in the summer and smoked meat in the winter.” In response to his look of surprise she said, “You do realize we’ll have to _eat_ on Yavin.”

“I know, I just didn’t expect you to be arranging trade deals.”

“If I’m going to invest my time in your Academy,” she said wryly, “I’m not going to let the Jedi _starve_ on my watch.”

Luke smiled at her. "Mara Jade, founding member of the Jedi Order."

She raised her chin, pretending to preen: "I like the sound of that."

“Me too.”

Every day, the Jedi Praxeum was closer to becoming a reality. It had a home, a few eager students, the gifts of the _Chu'unthor_ , and every scrap of knowledge he’d managed to salvage from the lost Jedi Order. It had him, and it now it had Mara. They would be the first of the new Jedi. It was still a daunting task and one that Luke wasn’t always sure that he was up to.

But now, thanks to Mara, at least they wouldn’t starve.

 

\- -

 

The Singing Mountain Clan gathered together to wish them well before they left. Mother Augwynne clasped Mara's hands, offering a Dathomiri blessing. "Sister Mara. You may not be a daughter of Allya, but you are always welcome here. Never concede to evil. May your path be true and your enemies suffer."

Next, Tannath stepped forward. “Jai Mara, may a present your husband with a gift?”

“Is the gift _appropriate_ , Sister Tannath?”

The old woman cackled. “Of course it’s appropriate! Who do you think I am, girl?” She held out a jar which Luke took. “It’s a fertility potion made of ground testes of our most fertile rancors. Now, it’s very potent, so use it sparingly.” Luke struggled to keep a straight face, not entirely sure how Mara was managing it, as Sister Tannath described its application in great detail. “Next time you visit, I expect to meet your daughters.” Luke wasn’t sure how else to respond but to thank her as Mara shot him an amused look.

As soon as the elders had spoken their piece, Sister Shen rushed forward to embrace Mara and thank her again for rescuing her daughter. Many of the other sisters offered thanks and well-wishes. Outside the close-knit circle of witches, Luke sensed more of the same genial lack of curiosity from the Clan he’d sensed throughout the trip. They were warm and generous, but they still exhibited the insular clannishness of the Dathomiri.

Kirana Ti made her goodbyes to her husband and her daughter, the small girl clearly fighting back tears as she hugged her mother. Kirana Ti whispered something to her and the girl nodded and stepped back, taking her father’s hand a raising her chin in the proud stance of a Dathomiri woman. Kirana Ti smiled at her, brushing her hand one last time through the girl’s dark hair before she turned away. The Clan began to drift away.

“The rancors wish to see you before you go,” Kirana Ti told Mara, shouldering a wicked looking pike Damaya had given her as a going-away present. “They want to thank you for rescuing Tika too.”

Mara looked surprised and slightly bewildered. “...Right.”

He grinned at her. She looked away, across the valley, and her face took on a wistful expression he’d never seen before. He’d seen something similar once or twice on Coruscant, but there the expression had been tinged with a bitterness that was absent here.

The rancors had gathered just outside the village on the path toward the field where their ship was waiting. Luke sensed that Mara hadn’t entirely shaken her discomfort with the massive animals, but she didn’t balk as they crowded around her, making eerie crooning sounds. It was a song, Luke realized, and though it didn’t channel the Force in the same was the witches’ songs did, it had an emotional power to it that throbbed into the air. Tosh hunched in front of Mara, so that her eyes were level with her head. She gently extended the fingers of her forelimb toward Mara, who reached out and laid a hand on the large claw. An understanding seemed to flow between the two as the rancors’ song rose and fell in the air. When it ended, Mara stepped back, moving slowly out of the circle of rancors and returning to where Luke and Kirana Ti stood. She didn’t flinch when he took her hand this time. Instead, she lifted her chin and strode forward toward the ship, the odd procession of himself, Kirana Ti, and half a dozen rancors following in her wake.

 

\- -

 

**_Yavin_ **

 

Luke watched the cargo ship as it settled down on a landing pad in front of the Great Temple at Yavin, trying not to let his acute anticipation show _too_ obviously. He wasn’t alone; a several Jedi apprentices watched from the far corner of the hanger. Even from several yards away, Luke could pick up their excitement at the prospect of a new batch of lolii fruit, a Dathomiri treat that had become popular with the students. The ship promised a new crate of the fruit from Dathomir, as well as news and fresh supplies.

And Mara.

As she’d promised, she’d been there when the Praxeum had opened, to greet the new Jedi trainees and help him organize the Academy and set up classes. But in the year since the opening, she’d been called back to Karrde’s organization and her visits to Yavin had been brief and not as frequent as either of them would have liked.

It seemed silly to miss someone who was easily available by holo and still in his head all the time, but there were things about Mara that he just couldn't get through the connection. The way she smelled, the sound of her laughter, waking up with her wrapped around him or visa versa. And the sex—yeah, he'd missed the sex a lot.

He crossed his arms in order to resist pacing or fidgeting as the ramp descended and, after what seemed like a very _long_ few minutes, Mara strolled down the ramp. She was followed by Kirana Ti, who had left for a short visit home, and Damaya, who had finally come to join the Jedi.

He could sense her anticipation simmering as impatiently as his own, but all that showed on her face was as small soft smile as he took her in his arms. “I missed you,” he said, breathing her in, wrapping himself in her vibrant presence. He poured all of his happiness and relief and longing across the bond.

 _Too much._ Mara leaned back, looking dazed. He pulled back quickly so as not to overwhelm her with his presence. _Unless you want me kriffing you here in front of your students_.

Luke laughed. _Probably not the most_ appropriate _image to project to my students._ That turned out to be the wrong phrasing to use, since her eyes lit up with the challenge and she yanked him forward, kissing him soundly and thoroughly. When they finally came up for air, they caught Kirana Ti eyeing them.

"Go on,” Kirana Ti waved a hand. “Go enjoy your _boyfriend._ " She made a face as she said the word. She had confessed to them once that she found the concept of casual relationships with men bizarre. “I’ll show Damaya around and get the droids to help me unload.”

Luke led Mara into the temple that had once housed the Rebel Alliance and was now home to the new Jedi Praxeum. They crossed a large open meeting space on their way to his quarters, where a couple of apprentices gathered together in a corner furnished with comfortable chairs for the purpose of socializing, while on the other side of the hall a few were honing their skills on a set of exercise mats. He felt a subtle tension run through Mara as they entered the hall and students all turned to look their way. He stopped and turned to her, his thumb brushing reassuringly across her knuckles. “This is your home too, Mara,” he reminded her quietly. She gave him a look that dared him to coddle her. He took a different tack. “Look, we’ve got the remotes working.” The apprentices on the mats had resumed their exercise, dodging and weaving around the bolts a set of remotes had been programmed to shoot at them as a way of honing Jedi reflexes. They were the very remotes they’d salvaged from the _Chu'unthor_ nearly a year and a half ago, repaired and refurbished, each with a gleaming new outer casing that Mara had brought back on one of her trading runs for Karrde. “Oh, and you should see what we’ve done with the library since you’ve been gone—”

“Not now. I’d love to see it—later. We’ve got other plans.” She tugged on his hand. “And I’ve got something to tell you.”  

His rooms— _their_ rooms, he reminded himself—had been furnished with their belongings when they’d first moved from Coruscant to Yavin, with few additions in the time since. Truthfully, he didn’t spend much time in their quarters when she wasn’t there. There was a part of him that held back on fully personalizing the space, the part of him still waiting for her to fully move into his life.

As soon as he shut the door behind them, he turned to drink her in. “What’s going on?” He brushed a finger across the corner of her mouth, where a smile was threatening to break free.

“Karrde’s going to give me six months off.”

“Six _months_?”

“Six months—maybe eight.”

He kissed her breathless.

She broke away again. "Provided our deal goes through."

"What deal?"

"An exclusive trade deal with the Hapes Consortium," she said smugly. "The Queen Mother was apparently _very_ pleased with what she heard about our expedition to Dathomir. She wanted to give me a rancor." Mara's nose wrinkled and Luke laughed. “But we worked out a trade deal instead. It’s still limited, but Karrde's beside himself.” It was a significant accomplishment. Hapes was notoriously isolationist, but Luke wasn’t entirely surprised. Teneniel Djo wasn’t an ordinary queen, she was a Dathomiri witch as well.

“That’s wonderful news, Mara.” He let his pride shine through the bond.

“First I need to make a trip to Hapes to meet her in person and work out the finer details of the contract,” she said. “Just long enough time to make contact with our clients and get the lay of the land.” She reached out twine her fingers with his, and said softly, “Come with me to Hapes?”

Hapes—another planet where women ruled and where there would be old friends, unexpected dangers, a Dathomiri Queen, and most importantly, Mara.  

He laughed and pulled her close. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! And it's been enormous fun! I can't believe I didn't completely botch things up. I'm so glad that frangipani egged me on to write L/M adventures on Dathomir, and supported me all the way through. Thanks, fic buddy! 
> 
> A thank you to everyone who read this all the way through and special thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments. 
> 
> The hand-fixing scene was inspired by a prompt in the Mara Jade Fanfic Exchange hosted by operaticspacetrash. 
> 
> I'm not strictly keeping to the EU/Legends canon timeline in this story, hence no mention of the events of the Jedi Academy books. The end of this story is a massive tease that probably won't go anywhere; I'm sorry but obviously not sorry enough. 
> 
> If you do want to read a story about Mara and Luke on Hapes, try In Velvet Gloves by frangipani. It's unrelated to this story, except for the fact that this story wouldn't exist without that one. It was In Velvet Gloves that got me on this whole Dathomir kick in the first place. And here we are.

**Author's Note:**

> For images and other Dathomir related content, check out the [Dathomir](http://celinamarniss.tumblr.com/tagged/dathomir) tag on my tumblr, @celinamarniss.


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